Twenty Questions
by Era Yachi
Summary: He always knew he'd die when he least expected it. McKay centric, team. Deathfic, sort of.
1. Questions

**Twenty Questions  
**(by Era Yachi)

''''''

"Okay, I'm thinking of something…go."

"Is it a bright orange, glowing thing?"

"Ha, ha, ha. I'm tickled. I hope you know that credits as three questions, Colonel."

"What?"

"You asked it in three distinct parts. You asked if it was a thing, if it glowed and if it was orange, so that earns you three separate answers, which all happen to be 'no', by the way. And that means you're down to seventeen questions. "

"Well in that case, I forfeit."

Twenty questions. It was one way to pass the time while they hiked back the incredible distance between the village and the gate. So far Sheppard had utterly failed at stumping McKay at the game. Obviously, his first attempt had been predictable, since Ferris wheels were now a sort of 'cliched' Sheppard thing. Somehow McKay had managed to narrow 'thing' to 'big thing', to 'big round thing' to ultimately 'big round thing with lots of flashing lights and annoying screaming people'. Good 'ol clever McKay.

"Say, I have an idea. Why doesn't Teyla give it a shot?" said Sheppard, stepping awkwardly over a dried-up bush.

"It sounds very interesting," Teyla agreed, smiling. Ronon snorted as he fell into place behind her. "The object is to only ask only twenty questions?"

"Hence its cleverly disguised name," McKay quipped.

Sheppard glanced over his shoulder. "Rodney, why don't you take the ball on this one. Just stick to something easy. Don't go picking something out of molecular physics or anything."

"Molecular physics? What am I, sixteen?"

"McKay." Sheppard glared.

"Yes, yes, I know. McKay smart. McKay bad."

"Are you ready, Dr. McKay?" Teyla interjected, before their bickering could continue.

"What?" The scientist looked surprised. "Oh, yeah…sure. Quest away."

A silence befell them and the forest that barred their way to the Gate. After a moment, Sheppard looked at Teyla curiously, as she seemed lost deep in thought. "Are you okay, Teyla?"

"There are just so many questions," she explained with a grin. "How do you choose where to begin?"

"Well, first off, you should start by narrowing it down to a person, place or thing," McKay explained. The group scaled over a small tree that had fallen across their path. Whereas an obstacle like this might have been a problem for him months ago, he barely even had to glance at it as he climbed over top. Being a field man had some benefits, after all.

"I see." Teyla thought for another moment. "Are you thinking of a place?"

"Nope."

"Is it a person?"

Rodney pointed triumphantly. "Yes! See? That's the idea. Now keep guessing."

"Is it a Wraith?" Ronon asked from the rear of the group.

McKay twisted around to give the ex-Runner a criminating look. "I don't answer questions from non-competitors. Who said you were playing, anyway? I thought you said you hated games."

"I said I don't like them," came the defensive reply. "Is it a Wraith?"

"No, for your information, it is not. If you two are so dead-set on teaming up against me, I'll just deduct that from your dwindling cache of questions." McKay smiled smugly. "Not that it matters. You won't ever guess who I'm thinking about."

"Samantha Carter," said Sheppard from several yards ahead.

"That's cheating, Colonel. You just wasted a perfectly good question on someone I obviously wouldn't choose, seeing how Teyla doesn't even know Colonel Carter exists."

"But he did not speak in the form of a question," Teyla pointed out. "Colonel Sheppard was simply…speaking out loud."

It dawned on Rodney just exactly what it was they were trying to do. "Aha. I'm sorry, Colonel, but beating a few freebies out of me with your dull wit still won't do any good."

Sheppard faked a painful grimace. "Ouch."

"Does this person live in Atlantis?" Teyla ventured.

The game continued on a string of several more questions that did little to narrow down the suspect. The thick grass and the well-worn trail were beginning to blend into the edge of the trees. Since the Stargate was located in the midst of the dense foliage of an overgrown thicket, they still had a ways to travel before they were home.

For the most part, their attempt at communicating with the locals had been useless. Only one villager seemed to have a vague recollection of the Stargate and their language. After trying to describe a ZPM to her and the purpose of their mission without any success, they gave up. The old woman just stared at them oddly and returned to her weaving. And that was it.

Is the person a scientist? Does the person have black hair, or red? Dark blond hair. Definitely not a scientist. Questions surfaced that took all of their attention, some that even invoked a round of laughter—one terrible enough to cause Teyla to punch Ronon on the arm. More familiar laughter. Was the person tall? Was he or she from Earth? Questions of all kinds were asked, but not the important ones, just the kind that one might ask a stranger.

Another kilometer and a half went by, and Teyla asked if Rodney's person was a friend of his.

"That should narrow it down," uttered Ronon with a wry grin. Sheppard snorted.

Rodney, however, was not amused. "I happen to have _plenty_ of friends. Just…not very many in this Galaxy. And anyway, the answer is yes. I think."

Telya took back the game by asking, "Is this person female?"

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd get to that. Yes, in fact, _she_ is."

"Is she pretty?" Ronon said.

McKay shot him a glare that could have broken glass. "_Yes_, in my opinion. That makes it an even eighteen. Take your time."

"I don't know, Teyla," said Sheppard, raising an eyebrow at her. "I think he just might win."

"Again," McKay added.

"I don't suppose…with that whole Wraith telepathy thing, you couldn't just…you know," the Lt. Colonel went on casually as they entered a copse of half-dead trees.

"Typical. How flattering is it that you need to resort to _that_ to beat me?"

John shrugged. "Winning is winning."

"Oh, please," said Rodney, turning his head to smirk at him. "As if you'd actually believe that—"

BANG.

The world was sent spinning in a shower of dirt as the ground beneath them erupted. A flash of blue sparked from the center of the small explosion, creating a shockwave that sent all four team members flying in different directions. Sheppard was knocked sideways, jarring his shoulder on the branch of a tree. He felt something splinter under his weight and a sharp pain exploded just below his collarbone. His head reeled in the moment, throbbing from the pressure cause by the wave. At the same time, he felt all feeling in his right arm ebb away.

Pieces of mulch and leaves rained down around him. The breathless sound of Ronon's voice broke the terrible silence that followed as the man pushed himself up onto his feet. Sheppard could hardly see anything with his eyes covered in dark fog, patches of colour and blurry shapes occasionally coming to mind, but not much else. Ronon's heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Question one: was his team okay?

"Yeah, I think so," John said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth. "Teyla? Rodney?"

"I am…unharmed," came Teyla's immediate response. She didn't sound like she was in any pain, so Sheppard chose to believe her. But he hadn't heard anything from McKay yet, and that was just scary.

Question two: was Rodney hurt?

At the time, the cloud in his vision was lifting, just slightly. He could now distinguish individual bodies. Ronon was standing, slightly hunched to his right side. Teyla was only a few yards away, looking dazed but not injured. And McKay…well, he could only assume that the blurry white-and-gray shape on the ground was McKay. The scientist was lying on his back against a tree, but not far enough away to raise any serious alarm.

"What the hell happened?" Ronon wanted to know, a grunt of pain blending on the edge of his voice.

"You're asking the wrong guy," he replied distantly, half-stumbling towards McKay's prone body. "Rodney, are you okay?"

McKay started to move, a sluggish dragging of his arms that suggested that he had just recovered from unconsciousness. "Oh, God…oh God, oh God…"

There it was. That typical Rodney McKay response he'd been waiting for. Trying not to breathe in the horrible, charred smell of the air, John bent down for a closer look. "I guess that means you'll be just fine."

But the scientist didn't seem to care at all. He tilted his head back, making a peculiar gasping sound that raised the hairs on the back of John's neck suspiciously.

"Rodney?" he said slowly.

"Sheppard?" Was it just him, or did McKay sound surprised that he was there? "S'funny…thought you'd say that…" He finished with a grimace of pain.

Now Sheppard was starting to feel pissed off. Now was a bad time for McKay to do this. He became vaguely aware of Ronon standing over his shoulder and even Teyla, but both were being silent.

"Oh, suck it up, McKay," he said, annoyed. "We need you to figure out what caused that blast, and I'm _really_ not in the mood for this. And I'd prefer it if you would, just this _once_, stop complaining and get to work!"

Question three: did Rodney always have to be such a pain in the ass?

Whatever effect he had hoped for on the scientist was gone with the wind when the only response he received was a half-choked sob. McKay wouldn't even look at him. And suddenly, the world around him seemed to click into place. He reached out and pulled back the man's vest, uncovering irony itself. His damaged eyes saw what he immediately mistook for a clump of wet leaves sticking to Rodney's jacket, but he realized too late that it was a little more three-dimensional than that.

There was stick _sticking out_ of McKay's stomach.

A _stick_.

And those weren't wet leaves.

Sheppard had seen many things. He'd seen blood and gore and even real-life decapitations. He'd even seen a man have his arm blown off by a well-aimed grenade. He'd built up a good stomach for these things, because it was important to save face in a military situation. But right now, he felt sick. It was his own burning pain that prevented him from actually getting sick, but he knew he should have.

Teyla, on the other hand, wasn't so fortunate. She had to spin away in order to lighten herself of her stomach contents. Ronon said nothing at all, but turned away as well, feeling the need to hit something. Hard.

Question four: why McKay, and _why_ now? That was two questions, in fact. Two questions he didn't have answers to. They weren't 'yes' or 'no' questions anyway. He could practically hear McKay's snarky "You just wasted two perfectly good questions, Colonel, hmm?" and it was sickeningly droll. As for the other questions, they were horrifically unfair.

"Rodney…" Sheppard didn't know what else to say. Sorry? It was a fucking unconventional way to apologize to someone with a goddamned _stick_ rammed through his intestines.

"Don't say that…please…_please_ don't," McKay said, clenching and unclenching his fists. "That's a bad thing…you saying 'Rodney' like that…isn't it? That…that's definitely…bad…"

Another click occurred in Sheppard's head. His eyes were better now, and he saw with growing anxiety that McKay wasn't looking at him because he didn't want to, it was because he _couldn't_. The areas around his pupils were bloody, his eyes red and frantically darting from place to place, utterly blind.

"Sheppard?" McKay half-whispered with a clear edge of panic. He thought the colonel had disappeared.

"We're here," John said quietly. His throat suddenly felt dry and hoarse. "All three of us, we're still here, Rodney. You're gonna be fine."

Question six: When did he get to be such bad liar?

Rodney was breathing irregularily. "Can't…I can't move…but it hurts…"

The sickness in Sheppard's stomach intensified as he witness the alarming rate in which the scientist's blood was spreading underneath his vest and into his shirt. Snapping into action, he waved towards Ronon and said, "Give me your coat. Now!" Damn it all, he'd forgotten to wear his own.

Ronon did so without a second thought, tossing it at their team leader, who caught it and pressed it firmly against McKay's abdomen. But instead of crying out or even complaining, McKay reacted as though nothing had happened at all. Ronon's coat was doing a poor job of staunching the flow of blood. If anything, it made the sight of McKay's injury less troubling, which was good enough reason to keep it there.

Question five: was it even possible?

"We need to get him back to Atlantis," Teyla said finally, having recovered from her sickness. Her voice cracked slightly. "Dr. Beckett will—

"No," John said sharply. "Right now, we need to stop him from bleeding out. If we move him now, he'll lose a lot more before we get him through the Gate!"

"The Wraith are _coming_, John!"

The news struck him like a glass of cold water in the face. He turned his head away from his task briefly. "The _Wraith_ are coming, Teyla? Since when do the Wraith even know we're here?"

"Stun bomb," Ronon interrupted, sounding a tad pissed. "That was a Wraith stun bomb. It must've been left behind after the last culling and McKay stepped on it."

"Let me guess," grated Sheppard, tightening his hand around the blood-soaked coat. "These _bombs_ have Wraith beacons, right?"

Ronon obviously felt no need to answer that, but it weighed for itself anyway.

Lucky question seven: was the whole universe going to hell?

"They are close, Colonel," said Teyla, her voice trembling. "There are…hundreds. Thousands. They are being woken…by the others."

"Geez, Rodney," hissed John, swearing even more violently under his breath. "Today's really not you day, is it, buddy?"

That would count as question eight. Today was a really, really bad day, for everyone. At least he had the answer to that one.

"Shep…" McKay's voice came out as only a wheeze. "Gate's…not far," he said, swallowing thickly. "You, Ronon…Teyla, should go."

"Not happening, McKay. You're coming with us whether or not I have to drag you through that Gate myself." His right arm being pretty much useless, he had to rely entirely on his left to keep pressure around the bloody end of the sharp stump. "Teyla, how long before they get here?"

"At least…ten minutes, Colonel. Some have already fallen upon the village, and some…"

"Ronon—"

"I got it," said the Satedan, crouching down beside McKay and the colonel. The scientist made a distraught whimpering sound as he reached to hook his arms around his legs and shoulders. For once, Ronon didn't even feel the urge to tell him to shut his mouth and put up with it.

Question nine: was he doing the right thing? No. That was a booming, explicit 'no', worthy of being shouted into a wide canyon—screamed, in fact, so that he could hear his own voice repeating it over and over from a distance. This was a terrible idea. If it wasn't bad enough a member of his team was bleeding out, there were Wraith hunting them down. It was like a shitty remake of _Jaws_, only there wasn't a boat. And the blood the predators were following didn't belong to some damn fish, it was Rodney's. He didn't like that.

"Now," he said, standing up slowly, "One, two, three…"

Ronon lifted Rodney off the ground, successfully sliding the skewer from his body. To his grief, the astrophysicist did not pass out from the pain as he'd hoped. He felt every splinter, and every inch shifting through the wound. And his strangled cry had a passion to it that none of his prior complaints could boast. Ronon flinched at the sound and mumbled a heartfelt 'sorry' before adjusting his weight so he could balance the added weight.

"First Wraith we run into is mine," he vowed.

John found himself powerless to argue. He tried not to look at the few droplets of blood that fell, glistening into the mulch on the ground. Just as he'd anticipated, the splintered branch was part of the dead tree that had served as Rodney's headrest. It was at least twice as thick at the base as it was at the tip. The entry wound in McKay's back had to be…really large. Silently, he reached over and shoved the bottom of Ronon's coat underneath McKay's body, hoping that the added pressure would make the blood flow lessen. There was a very ghostlike, unhappy comedy about it. With the coat wrapped around him as it was, it looked as though someone had strapped a very big, very bloody elastic band around Rodney's middle.

Sheppard took the scientist's sidearm and placed it in McKay's hand. "Use this under extreme circumstances only, Rodney. I'd rather not have to explain to Weir how you accidentally shot Ronon."

"Doesn't matter," the scientist coughed. "C-Can't see, remember? Can't…feel, either…" The giddy chuckle that followed rang alarm bells in John's head. "I'm…oh my God, I'm…g-gonna die, aren't I?" More giggling, which probably meant that the flow of oxygen to his brain was hooked somehow. Not good.

"Colonel," Teyla pressured, rekindling their need to leave. John nodded to her, gripping his P90 readily.

"Sorry, Rodney, but this conversation will have to wait," he said, walking past Ronon to the edge of the barely noticeable trail. "I'll go first—Ronon, you and Rodney stay between us, and Teyla takes the rear. It's still a hike to the Gate, and we're on a tight schedule."

"I should—" Ronon started.

"You're only job is to make sure Rodney stays alive," Sheppard said angrily. "That's it. Nothing else. That's an order."

And so his mind rounded off on questions ten and eleven as the team set out. Would McKay make it back to the Gate alive? Would anyone? If Rodney were in better shape, he'd have been the first (and probably only) one to deny that there was any hope of escaping a Wraith-infested planet. Despite the fact that they'd done it dozens of times before, and would continue to do so until the Wraith were extinct.

Escaping hostile Wraith territories, one right after the other. Boy, they sure had the golden years behind them, didn't they? Well, yes, they did. It was starting to feel wrong already. Sheppard hated losing teammates as much as the next guy—there was a lot of paperwork involved. Then of course, there was the problem of finding a replacement…

He didn't bother betraying the surge of loss that flooded him at the thought. Question one-two: replace Rodney McKay? Hell, he could probably search both galaxies and still not find the right guy. And, fun and games aside, there was far fewer people out there that matched McKay's personality than there were people who could match his genius. Yeah, the guy was annoying. Okay, he had a bad habit of stuffing the average ego in a blender and making self-confidence margaritas. And he had this strange attraction to getting himself killed, but…the answer to question number twelve was no. No replacement for McKay.

How far would that go, anyway? Help wanted: insufferable genius. Must include habit to whine, provoke, put down, annoy people and fix things. Uncontrollable urge to save the universe preferable.

And not that he'd ever tell the guy, but loosing a teammate was one thing—loosing a friend was another. He wasn't…good at expressing…things. He just really, really, really didn't want McKay to die.

Question thirteen: what was that noise?

Sooner than the question could manifest into words, a bolt of blue ripped through the bushes in front of them and struck the tree behind Sheppard in a spray of wood chips. He cradled the P90 in his one working arm and fired in the direction of the shot, and was rewarded with the outraged scream of a Wraith drone. Several more blaster shots whistled through the air, one of them whizzing straight past his ear. He ducked behind the half-demolished tree, yelling, "Ronon, take cover with McKay! I need your help over here, Teyla!"

When she appeared, she was evidently trying to move as quickly as possible with one of her legs. At first glance, he measured the extent of her incapacity. Her lower left leg had been clipped. She threw her body against a tree and started firing rounds into the foliage behind her. Even more Wraith blasts skimmed the air from that direction, confirming John's suspicions—they were surrounded.

He glimpsed out of the corner of his eye a sudden movement in the trees. He spun back around and fired on impulse, but found nothing in his sights. Shadows. Dammit! These Wraith were playing with them! Realizing he'd been distracted, he faced the overturned stump where Ronon had deposited McKay. He couldn't even shout a warning before a male Wraith leapt out of the trees and rammed into the Satedan, knocking him flat on his back. A second male Wraith slowly crept up on McKay, who had barely enough strength to groan at the sight of death looming over his head.

Question of the hour: which Wraith did he shoot?

To his relief and reprieve, he didn't have to make that decision. Teyla emptied the rest of the magazine in her P90 into the back of the first Wraith. It collapsed on top of Ronon, who hurled it to one side. At the same time, Sheppard opened fire on the Wraith standing above McKay. It staggered backwards, hesitated, and fell to its knees. Ronon's well-aimed pistol then burned a hole through its head, effectively ending its life.

The Wraith stunners stopped firing. For now, the Wraith were a step behind. On the other hand, they'd just been robbed of several very important minutes of their time. Question fifteen: what the _hell_ was the point of sending three Wraith at them? There was a whole goddamned Hive Ship on the planet!

"Teyla, you all right?" John asked, focusing on the line of trees suspiciously.

"I am fine, Colonel. I was struck by a stunner blast, but I am very much alive," she replied, hobbling across the mulched ground towards them. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No," he said. "But I think Rodney's taken a turn for the worse." And like a shell, the anger just exploded from him. "Damn it! _Damn_ it! This shouldn't have happened! _Not_ like this!"

"There's no sense in worrying about it now," Ronon pointed out, shockingly calm at the moment. He kicked one of the Wraith corpses aside and knelt before McKay, holstering his weapon. "Sheppard, you might wanna come here."

Lowering his P90, John slid down the small incline that shouldered the upturned tree stump. When he rounded the widespread shield of roots, a bleak sight greeted him. Rodney was breathing short, shallow breaths. His eyes were closed, as though he'd drifted off to sleep, but Sheppard was too familiar with the difference to be fooled. The scientist was inches away from slipping into a slumber that flew nothing but autopilot.

"Rodney. Open your _eyes_, McKay. I swear to God right now, if you fall asleep on me I'm leaving you right here for the Wraith to find. Now snap out of it!" he barked, shaking McKay's shoulder. This induced a slight crease in the scientist's brow and half-lidded glare. "Better. Now repeat after me, Rodney—we are going _home_."

Those eyes flickered shut again for a moment as the astrophysicist sucked in a slightly deeper breath. "G'home…" he said listlessly.

"That's good enough," the colonel said with a twinge of a smile. He stood up, twisting his head to look over at Ronon. "You'll have to carry him through the Gate. Teyla and I—"

He was cut off abruptly by the scream of a Wraith dart. All three team members ducked instinctively, but the dart that sped across the sky above their heads didn't seem to care they were there. A few seconds later, another small craft whizzed by at breakneck speed. They were both heading in the direction of the Stargate.

"Shit!" Sheppard roared. "Move, everyone, now! They're heading for the Gate!"

Ronon didn't wait to be ordered around. He stooped down, grabbed McKay in a fashion less gentle than before and lifted him from the rocky terrain. "Go, don't wait for us!" John yelled. "Dial the Gate and get the hell out of here!"

Despite the effect his direct order had on the Satedan, Ronon still lingered for another second. Then, with a contorted expression, he turned and crashed through the underbrush towards the Gate. Sheppard moved towards Teyla, offering her the one shoulder he had left for such an occasion. Feeling was trickling back into his right arm slowly, just enough to hold onto the P90 but not actually fire it. That was enough to take them as far as Atlantis, but if they ran into any more Wraith on the ground…

Maybe it was better to worry about that later.

''''''

Call it a premonition, but Sheppard already had a pretty good idea of what they'd find when they reached the gate. And as soon as it came into view, his "premonition" turned out to be true. Ronon was already standing there, an unmoving scientist in his arms. John couldn't read his expression, but he could only imagine the living expression on the larger man's face. He was pretty sure Ronon's hatred for the Wraith just grew tenfold.

Question fifteen: why couldn't his bad feelings mean something good for once?

The DHD sat ruined. A large, burnt-out hole smoked on its surface let off a stream of smoke, and the smell of charred crystals flooded the small clearing with an ominous presence.

Sheppard led a hobbling Teyla towards the vacant ring. Gratefully, she released him and leaned over the remains of the DHD. A small groan broke the intense silence.

"Know…that smell," huffed McKay, coughing slightly. "It's…completely destroyed, isn't it?"

Finding he couldn't lie to the man, no matter how convenient it would be, Sheppard set his jaw firmly and looked away. "Yeah."

"So I'm…really gonna…die here?"

"Not if I can help it," growled Ronon. Right then, John realized why the man had been staring at the sky. The screams of several darts began in the distance, growing closer steadily. "Darts can dial the Gate, can't they?"

"Ronon," John warned.

But the Satedan ignored him. He crouched down to place McKay against a grass-covered rock, and stood up again. The Wraith darts shot past their heads, in pursuit of some unknown prey—bigger prey. It was quite likely that these were the same Wraith that had shot the DHD to prevent the planet's inhabitants from escaping. Drawing his blaster with one hand, Ronon sprinted off towards the direction they were heading.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Sheppard bellowed after him. When he reached no conclusion with the man, he hugged his own P90 against is body and took off after him. He stopped long enough to shout an order over his shoulder. "Teyla, take care of McKay! If the Gate opens, take him and hide until we get back!"

Breathing heavily, Teyla nodded her consent and limped towards the prone figure of the scientist. Sheppard hesitated again, torn between staying and leaving. He chose to threaten, instead.

"Rodney, you'd better still be alive when I get back!"

With that to be continued, the Lt. Colonel backed away a few steps before turning around and racing after their escaped teammate, leaving Teyla with her charge and mind full of untamable questions.

Her heart sank with the first few seconds she could hear only screaming darts. But that feeling passed with the sounds, with faded into the sky. When she cast her eyes down, she realized with a start that McKay was no longer conscious. His chest rose and fell still, but rapidly and irregularly. She was hopeful, but she did not feel as though Dr. McKay would survive much longer without immediate medical attention.

Adjusting herself so that she sat next to Rodney, she then placed one arm over the P90 in her lap, the other firmly atop the tan coat serving as the scientist's bandage, and began to wait.

''''''

What little remained of the DHD smoldered quietly behind them. The distant wailing of Wraith darts faded in and out over the minutes, and it was even more unsettling with each passing moment. Teyla continued to add pressure to McKay's stomach wound, but the paleness of his skin did deceive the fact that he had lost much blood. It was beginning to cool on her hands and Ronon's coat hardly seemed to be absorbing any more, but there was nothing she could do for him otherwise.

On the ground, McKay made a rasping sound and came to. "Teyla?"

"I'm right here, Dr. McKay," Teyla said gently.

"Sorry…" He seemed…confused, disoriented. "I don't think I…much longer…Sh'pard?"

"Colonel Sheppard has gone with Ronon to find a means to open the Gate," she promised. "You will be…just fine." Unfortunately, her voice shook, betraying her true thoughts.

"You're worse than…Sheppard," he breathed with what might have been a smile. "Hard to…stay awake."

She only needed a moment to think about that before the solution came to her. "Perhaps another game of twenty questions, to pass the time?"

He laughed shortly. "You…kidding?"

Solemnly, she shook her head. She had lost many friends to the Wraith before, but none in this fashion. Her new life, her team and Atlantis—McKay was unbearable at times, but she felt ill to imagine any of these things without him. If he truly were to die now, she thought it best to make him comfortable. It stuck inside of her like a cold, heavy stone.

Teyla's silence continued, and McKay must have realized that she'd shaken her head in response without realizing he couldn't see her. He sighed, swallowed painfully and said, "So it's…your turn?"

"I think so," her reply came. "Whenever you are ready, Dr. McKay."

Silently, he closed his eyes to think. "Is it…p-person?" he mumbled.

Teyla nodded. "Yes."

"Oh." His slow breathing began to sound laboured. "Is he…friend of yours?" he asked hopefully.

Her eyes stung, then began to water. "Yes. A very good friend."

"Oh, good," he said with a touch of relief. "He's me, right?" And he grinned, so full of life and appreciation that was so limited, so weak. Miraculously, he no longer seemed to be in much pain. His eyes, however, were beginning to stare, as though looking through he fabric of space and time itself.

The harshness of the moment be damned, Teyla smiled. "Yes."

There was a lengthy pause. "So…means…I win?"

"Yes. You are…very good at this game, Rodney."

"Huh," he said, staring into space. "Guess…winning's not…so bad…"

The shallow, painfully slow breathing finally stopped. So did the bleeding.

Teyla found herself frozen in place for a moment too long. Even though she had been prepared, the suddenness of his death took her by surprise. Her uncertainty fled almost instantly and she did as the others would do—she tried to revive him. If he could live a little longer, perhaps there was a possibility they could dial the Gate and save him.

Irony took off its mask. The Gate flashed to life, the glow of the wave washing over them in the failing light. A few seconds later, she heard a voice on her earpiece.

"_Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir. Are you there?_"

There were still so many unanswered questions.

''''''


	2. Crossing Paths

**Twenty Questions**  
(by Era Yachi) 

AN: Okay, this will now become a multi-chapter story. My conscience won't allow it otherwise. Stupid humanity.

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_Crossing Paths_

""""""

Everyone reaches a specific time in their life where they meet the end of their road. At this time, they ask themselves a question—should they turn around and retrace the path they had traveled already, or step off the well-beaten path and continue their journey?

Like with many other questions, the choice becomes the answer. Travel backwards to a familiar place? Answer yes, and 'yes' is your answer. 'No' could mean an infinite number of possible things. That was the problem with asking questions, which is most likely the reason so few actually stop to ask them. Questions had the tendency to confuse things. People spend their entire lives searching for answers without knowing how to step over the line and make their own.

""""""

The mood in Atlantis was a bleak nuisance. Right up to the day of department, every soul in the confines of the city walls followed their routine without ever once looking up from their respective station. Death wasn't a new experience for anyone. It occurred on a frighteningly regular basis, whether it was the result of an accident, an ambush or natural causes. It certainly wasn't a happy thing. It affected many people, which ultimately produced poor eating habits, depression and anxiety.

When a member of the expedition dies, Atlantis reacts— in ways too various to keep track of. There was certain predictability about Rodney's demise, however. Dr. Rodney McKay was not only a member of senior personnel and, to his own palpable ego, the most brilliant of scientists, he was a close attachment to the other leaders of the expedition. The absence of someone that they—until now—had often dreamed of living without was even felt by those who knew him by reputation only. It was one of those rare things that made bad reputations seem glorified. And it was.

As it turned out, Sheppard didn't need to find a replacement member for the team.

No one was really surprised that Zelenka assigned himself to it. It had been an unspoken agreement between McKay and Radek that he would be the next off-world genius in the event of McKay's capture or death. Elizabeth was not at all comfortable with the idea. They had already lost one invaluable member of the expedition, and Zelenka was needed on Atlantis even more now that he had to assume McKay's position as chief scientific advisor. Sheppard disagreed with her. In this regard, Sheppard won. Zelenka was their new man.

Radek was a prepared man. He enjoyed picking up one task at a time and making great progress for Atlantis. He was not ready, however, for his sudden and ill-fated promotion. Not even a week's preparation could blunt the pressure of suddenly being one when before there had been two. In a way, joining Colonel Sheppard's team came with the greatest relief. Now he could sometimes leave, and the small lab where they'd settled every last debate about the relation between space-time and logistics known to mankind would no longer be his prison cell.

That relief, on the other hand, was short-lived when he realized that his first mission with Rodney's team was to take place on H4W-020. H4W-020 was the same planet where Rodney had died.

The Hive ship was gone, and the people in the villages had been culled. But something had been left behind, and whatever it was, it was generating a lot of energy. Energy readings trumped personal appeal. It was Sheppard's decision to take his team back to the planet with a Jumper himself. Not ever Weir thought to question him.

And Zelenka…though he wanted nothing more than to stay in Atlantis, he had made a promise to Rodney. Even if that promise had been made after Rodney had made it perfectly clear that his intelligence was only secondary in comparison to his own. Radek had to smile sadly at the memory. Despite the censure, it was pleasant to remember the few unguarded moments where Rodney had been forced to admit that he cared…even a little bit, about other people.

In fact, it was the day before they stepped through the Gate that Zelenka realized what he'd be getting into. He had been slumped over his desk and Rodney's old laptop with a cooling pot of coffee and an empty mug beside him.

"Dr. Zelenka?"

Kate's voice drifted into the lab. Zelenka nearly jumped out of his seat. He caught the stack of papers before they slid off the edge of the table and fumbled about for his glasses, quickly stammering something about rolling blackouts and power conservation in Czech.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she started. "Is everything okay?"

"I, uh…" Zelenka cleared his throat and slipped his glasses over the bridge of his nose. "I am fine, doctor. Did you need something?"

"No," she said hesitantly, hovering in the doorway that split the room and the corridor. "Although, from back there, it looked like you were trying to mind-meld with that coffee pot."

"Mind-meld?" he repeated slowly, unfamiliar with the word.

"Sorry, that was Star Trek lingo. Um…never mind. I was just passing by, and I realized that I hadn't seen you around for a few days. Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

"Ah, no," he said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. "I'm fine, really. There is just so much…much work to be done, and Rodney…" He stopped, staring blankly at the wall. It was second nature to talk about McKay, it was hard to not forget that he was no longer alive. "I feel there should be something I can do, maybe find in his notes something…"

Despite his unsuccessful attempt at conveying his goals, she appeared to understand him completely. Slowly, she took a seat across from him and watched him emphatically. "Radek, you're not the only one having trouble overcoming Dr. McKay's passing," she said quietly. "This is coming from a friend, and not a psychiatrist. The death of someone close to you is devastating, yes, but what's more important is that you take care of yourself. Out of everyone who knew Dr. McKay personally, you're the only one who fully understands the tensions and pressures of your jobs in Atlantis. If Rodney were here, I _know_ he wouldn't want you try to take on all of these problems yourself."

"Yes," he agreed with a dry chuckle. "He would probably think I would cause Atlantis to explode, rather than fix the problem."

Dr. Heightmeyer smiled a little. "Well, it wouldn't be like him to openly admit that he's worried about you."

It took a moment for Zelenka to recognize the silence for what it was. His eyebrows rose a little. "Doctor Heightmeyer, that was terrible violation of doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I disagree," she said innocently. "I'm being sensitive to the set of circumstances, that's all. I was speculating."

He was pensive. "He was not a good liar."

She nodded. "You probably knew him better than even me."

Now his smile was grim as he returned his eyes to the screen of the laptop. "We all did. He didn't know it," he said, waving his finger for emphasis.

Her expression changed to that of someone who knew much more than she was letting on. It was that look of honest understanding, the one she used when she discussed the recently deceased with their closest friends and family. She was Kate, after all, and she knew the innermost thoughts of some people, people like McKay that she could never release to anyone. Everyone respected this.

All in all, Radek Zelenka needed time to adjust to his new calling. His first experience off-world had been a mission to rescue Rodney from certain death inside a Wraith dart. His first mission with Sheppard's team was to investigate the planet of Rodney's death.

Only those with too much time on their hands believe in coincidence. Radek didn't have much time on his hands.

""""""

When tomorrow arrived, he was ready.

They all stood before the bright blue glow of the Gate, flickering over them like the sun reflecting off a pool. From above the Gate room, in Weir's office, the sight was a little—very—depressing. In spite of Zelenka's best efforts, Sheppard's team looked unhinged, derailed and strange. A little more than two years of watching the same team step through that Gate a hundred times or more made it difficult to observe now. A team without McKay was a team without Sheppard, or Teyla, or Ronon. Not Sheppard's team, anyway.

But that was all speculation.

"Colonel," Weir said, standing on the balcony overlooking the Gate. He looked up at her. "I'm sending another team through in one hour, with a Jumper. If the DHD is beyond repair, you might need it to dial back to Atlantis. We don't know if the Wraith have cleared out entirely and we can't risk revealing that this city's still intact. I hate to say this, but the possibility you might be walking into an ambush is too high to send you with your own Jumper."

"Sounds fair to me," John said, looking at his team. "We're about ready to go, I think. Unless, of course, anyone's having…second thoughts."

"Let's just get this over with," Ronon muttered.

Teyla bowed her head. Zelenka said nothing at all.

Without another word of ceremony, Sheppard nodded shortly to their expedition leader, turned and walked into the event horizon. Teyla and Ronon followed.

"Dr. Zelenka?" said Weir.

Radek waited just before the rippling surface of the gate. He glanced over his shoulder in surprise.

Elizabeth folded her arms tightly against her body; in that manner she did when plagued with worry. "Please be careful."

In return he flashed her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Through this gate, perhaps, there was something that would make a little good out of Rodney's death. If there were such a thing, he would bring it back for her. This would be, however, the only time he would visit H4W-020.

""""""

The grassy, pale knoll that spread out before the gate had not changed at all. The various stone pieces that lay strewn in several directions: some half-buried, some protruding from the nest-like terrain were bleached by the sun though partially covered by the shade of the nearby trees. There was no sign of Wraith or the culling that had taken place just a week prior.

"Everybody keep their eyes peeled," Sheppard warned, taking the lead. His gaze swept the area, pausing only briefly on the spot by the sun-dried moss that marked the place where McKay had died. Apparently it had rained recently, and washed away whatever blood that had been left behind.

"What is it we're looking for, exactly?" Ronon wanted to know. Aside from his abandonment of his now-ruined coat, there was something oddly familiar in the way he approached Sheppard, with his eyes on the tree line rather than the Colonel's face. Sheppard brushed it off. The less he thought about the planet he was standing on now, the better he would sleep tonight.

He checked his weapon before lowering the barrel. "Anything that gives off a lot of energy, Ronon. Dr. Zelenka, would you care to elaborate for us?"

Zelenka was too busy gawking at the Ancient scanner in his hand, however, to be able to form a response—an English response—as of yet. When he found the first few syllables, he stammered, "It…it's…"

John shot him a slanted look. "It's…what? A Wraith, an Ancient database? A circus?"

"It's…" Zelenka looked up from the scanner. "…gone."

A short silence elapsed.

"Gone," Sheppard reiterated.

"Y-Yes, the energy reading," Radek explained, pushing his glasses up with a prod of one finger. "It's simply…disappeared."

"As in…_nothing_ _at all_?" John said, wanting to know for sure that what he was hearing was in fact, true. Because it was, his mood wasn't going improve any.

To this, the poor scientist could only struggle for the right words to describe the singularity. "Well, not…gone, perhaps, because there is something, but not as significant as the one we received on Atlantis long-range scanners."

"But it's the same signature, right?"

"I am unable to tell exactly. It could be…anything. A natural hot spring, an unusually large thermal vent or…anything really, but not enough to be power source."

Sheppard's face went slack in a strange, foreboding way that Zelenka couldn't interpret. Slowly, the Lt. Colonel's gaze traveled from Teyla, to Ronon, and finally back to Zelenka. "I don't…know about you guys, but I'm having a _really_ strange sense of déjà vu."

"Déjà what?" Ronon said.

"Déjà vu is used to describe the feeling that one has experienced something before," Teyla provided for him, being the next to fall victim to the small phenomenon. "And I believe that I am experiencing it as well."

"Now I remember…" Sheppard started to say, looking straight at Ronon. "When we frst got throught he gate, you asked what we're looking for. Butyou asked that _exact_ same thing the first time we came here." He paused. "And that's when I asked Rodney…"

The mention of his name put a pound or two on the silence that followed thereafter. It was awkward, guilty and miserable all at the same time. No one met each other's eyes for a long minute. Teyla chose then to pick up where the pin dropped.

"And then you asked Rodney if there was anything of interest in the surrounding area," she said softly, but firmly. "If I remember correctly, he gave a response very similar to that of Dr. Zelenka."

"Yeah," Sheppard said dryly. "Hot springs, thermal ducts or whatnot. We went to the village and started to come back, when I thought of that twenty questions game."

"Colonel," said Teyla.

In reaction to the tone in her voice, John turned around to face the now dormant Gate. She was staring blankly at something, and when he followed her gaze to the spot where the DHD stood, his blood ran cold. Sitting there, as if scorning them, was a completely restored DHD, as flawless and untouched as it had been before its destruction.

"Guys," said Sheppard slowly. "I have a feeling something weird is going on."

""""""


	3. Before and After

**Twenty Questions  
**(by Era Yachi)

AN: Some will notice the reference to Martha Well's Atlantis novel, "Reliquary". Man, I wish that had been an actual episode. Lizard Sheppard! Wee!

* * *

_Before and After_

------

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir. Are you there?" 

He stopped in the middle of the dense undergrowth, for a moment not believing what he'd heard. Then, slowly, it dawned on him that the Gate must be active, and that Elizabeth was in fact, contacting him. His hand shot to his radio. "Dr. Weir, this is Sheppard. You know, I'm very, _very_ glad you decided to call."

"_Why? What's happened?_" Her voice sounded worried. "_Colonel?_"

"Oh, nothing," he replied irately. "It's just that I've got a badly wounded Rodney on the ground outside the Gate, and now Ronon's playing tag with a couple of Wraith darts. Our DHD is ruined. Not to mention the entire hive of life-sucking aliens headed our way."

There was a weighty pause, which he spent regretting how angry he sounded. Finally, she responded.

"_I'm sending another team and Beckett through right now." _

"Don't bother with the team," he said, moving through the thick foliage with his working arm gripping the P90 tightly. "They'll just attract more Wraith to the 'gate, and I think McKay's had enough for one day. We need Carson over here right now. I don't know how much longer he can hold out."

"_All right, we're on it."_

A soft voice interrupted. "_John_."

It took a moment for him to recognize Teyla's voice and stopped in his tracks. "Teyla?" he said warily.

"_Dr. Beckett…cannot help him." _Teyla's voice wavered slightly as he heard her inhale slowly. "_Dr. McKay is gone_."

The silence on the line was stifling. Then again, so was the air. If his left arm and chest hadn't been so numb, he might have felt his heart skip a beat. "You're lying."

"_I am so sorry, John_," she said shakily. "_There was nothing I could do. At least…"_ Her voice caught. "…_he is no longer suffering._"

Sheppard was suddenly jolted from his trance by the sound of someone rushing towards him to his right. He spun to meet the attacker, tightening a finger around the P90's trigger. Instead of a Wraith, however, he found Ronon staring back at him. They look across at one another, knowing.

"He's dead," the Satedan growled.

John stood, unmoving reflection. "Yeah," he said. "He is."

"_Colonel_," Weir's voice said in his ear. He could tell by the sudden hoarseness of her voice that this news had struck her just as hard as everyone else. "_We can discuss what happened later. Right now, we need to focus on getting everyone back to Atlantis."_

"Sure," he replied hoarsely. "Everyone." After a long pause and a futile attempt to shake of the cold, clutching feeling in his gut, he went on. "Teyla, we're on our way back."

There was a jumper on the ground by the time they reached the 'gate. Dr. Beckett was crouched beside the rock where McKay was slumped, unmoving. Sheppard spotted Teyla near the side of the ship, and she wouldn't look at him even as he came near to the scene. Two or three others, a few men and woman in medical uniforms milled about. They were obviously troubled by Beckett's lack of anything—not words, not movement, not even a heavily accented curse. The Scottish doctor looked pretty much the same way Sheppard felt right now. Distraught. Angry. Powerless to do anything.

"One side, doc," Sheppard said, kneeling next to Rodney's body. Here was McKay, covered in his own blood, and he wasn't even complaining. "Geez, Rodney…" He grimaced, looking at the ground.

"Aye, ye little bastard," Beckett agreed softly. "Ye didn' even give me a chance tae save yer arse this time. Tha's not fair…"

Sheppard's attention was fixed on the nine mil in the scientist's hand. It was clean, except for the small blood print on it from his vest. Careful to not disturb his arm, Sheppard reached out and unhooked it from Rodney's fingers and tossed it away, where it sank into the grass. He knew how much Rodney hated firing that thing, and it was downright insulting to leave it there.

"This is messed up," he said, staring at the blanched face. "You're not supposed to die, Rodney. That's not part of the game."

Beckett looked at him sympathetically. "Colonel…"

It was a revolutionary mix of emotion. Most of all, he was angry at Rodney for being such an ass he had to go and get himself killed. Then he was equally as pissed of at himself for letting it happen. Angry, because this was the last on a long list of ways he imagined this could happen. McKay crowed his status of 'hero' and it was annoying as hell, but hell if it wasn't true.

The stubborn, superior ego of McKay was part of Atlantis. It was a rule that shouldn't be broken.

"Colonel, the Wraith are becoming…agitated," Teyla broke the silence with part of her steely resolve intact. "We must leave now before they return."

As usual, her point was valid. They had to concentrate on evading the Wraith before they risked exposing the survival of Atlantis. And as usual, just as his mind shifted from one priority to another, Ronon stepped forward and crouched beside him.

"Want me to take him?" he said evenly. Nodding solemnly, Sheppard stood up and let the man reach out and scoop Rodney off the ground.

He glanced over at Teyla as he stepped back to give Ronon room to move. Beckett heaved a sigh that sounded like a ghostly familiar sound to the ears of John Sheppard. No one wanted to admit it, but Rodney's misstep had not only caused him his life, but it had also awakened another dormant hive ship in the already overpopulated galaxy of the Wraith. Worse, these Wraith had a pretty good idea that there were survivors from Atlantis still intruding on their feeding grounds. Things were looking unfavorably for the expedition.

They packed the jumper, boarded and slipped into the rippling pool of the open 'gate. Never to return to this particular place in time, and none the wiser for it.

* * *

-

Zelenka's fingers followed the dialing pattern again—four, five, six…seven. As he pressed down on the last symbol, it lit up. They each watched the vacant ring in anticipation. Nothing happened.

Nothing had happened the time before, either. Even though he had tried to dial Atlantis three times already, the Gate refused to do anything but pose, empty and apparently dead. The scientist nervously wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and turned back to the team—his team, and still Rodney's team. He was supposed to be a member, but he didn't feel like one right now.

Now Rodney…Rodney wouldn't give up here. He would probably get angry, and randomly accuse someone of breaking the DHD. Then he would try to fix it. Maybe he would fail, maybe he would get it to work, but this was clearly much better handling for someone who had more field experience with Ancient technology.

"This doesn't make any sense," Sheppard said irritably, stepping up to the undamaged DHD. "Why bother fixing the DHD if it's still broken?"

"Better question yet," said Ronon. "Who did it?"

They all exchanged sidelong glances. No one had the answer to either question, not even Radek. Sheppard glanced towards the mossy spot where he'd found McKay…but that odd, tingly feeling returned. He didn't like the odd tingly feeling.

"Well we know who it wasn't, so we can all stop thinking it," he said dourly, backing down from the device. That too, made the feeling get worse. Maybe he needed therapy. It just didn't seem right to brush off the possibility that McKay might still be alive, even though he'd personally been the one to turn the body over to Beckett, and the one to meet with him in private for the autopsy report.

"Colonel, the energy reading is rapidly increasing," Zelenka announced. "Now it has stopped. It's holding steady. I believe this could be linked somehow to the DHD malfunction."

"You don't say," John replied drearily, side-glancing at him. "And you're planning to explain your theory anytime soon?"

"Well, whenever I try to dial the 'gate, the same source continues to rise to the same level," the scientist explained, gesturing with an open hand towards the direction of the power source. "It is possible…whatever it is, it is reacting to the 'gate whenever it connects to a wormhole."

"In other words, someone's trying to prevent us from leaving?"

Radek blinked, registering this translation. "Yes," he said finally. "Basically."

"Well, that settles it," Sheppard said roughly. "Let's go tell our new host how much we like to be trapped on Wraith-infested planets."

Ronon and Teyla moved off towards the half-bred path into the trees, and their team leader waited for another moment or two before he followed. Feeling more out of place than ever, Zelenka fumbled his grip around the awkward shape of the P90 in his hands and stepped after them. His uneasiness grew as the silent trek grew on and on. There was something wrong about this, terrible wrong, and he was sure that it somehow involved their departed friend.

* * *

-

They came to a field of yellow, flaky grass and cracked mud. The trees opened up into a perfectly round clearing, with the shriveled remains of vegetation covering the flat area expanding before them like a painfully ironic crop circle. Grass crumbled beneath every stride into the center of the desolate area. Sheppard turned in a slow circle, observing the strange sight with a twisted expression.

"Okay, I've definitely seen this movie," he commented. "Zelenka, are you sure this is the right spot?"

The scientist shook his head and shrugged, before putting the scanner away. "The signature reads the most powerful in the center of impression, but…"

"But?" said Sheppard.

"But," Radek went on meaningfully. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah, you get used to those," came the casual reply. Sheppard moved slowly towards the spiraled center of the dried circle, ignoring his own instincts for the sake of satisfaction. The rest of the team followed with caution, a spectacular display of stealth—aside from Zelenka, who could not help but proceed gracelessly in order to save himself from falling straight through the thick matting of grass.

Ronon stopped just meters from the center of the field. "How far are we from the 'gate?"

Zelenka adjusted his glasses and recalled the numbers on the PDA's screen. "Ah, about four kilometers." And it wasn't a pleasant hike, either. He simply wasn't cut out for field work, not yet, at least.

Still in the process of converting the metric system into his own idea of measurement, Ronon remained silent in contemplation. Sheppard was, at the moment, walking straight into the exact middle of the field. "Did anyone else feel strange a little while back?"

And then, as if to answer his question, the ground under his feet suddenly moved. With a hollow groan, the grass split into a wide semicircle around Sheppard's feet. A long military history and naturally quick reflexes allowed him to jump to one side just as the section of the ground tore apart from the sod and descended into a dark chamber below. The smell of old dirt and metal wafted up from the opening.

Everyone took a moment to hover over the artificial fissure. Sheppard lifted his head. "Now, I'm not a scientific genius, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that this thing wasn't put here by gophers."

"It is quite advanced," Teyla agreed, squinting into the darkness.

Zelenka's fingers buzzed over the face of the scanner. "This is incredible. The power source is directly beneath us…and it has increased nearly fives times greater than before."

"Big enough for a ZPM?" said Sheppard.

The scientist shook his head and bent down over the edge of the hole. "No, not nearly. If the ZPM were almost depleted, perhaps, but not enough to be full or even half-charged."

"Watch it, doc," Sheppard warned lowly, moving forward to pull the scientist back. His mind was still full of images of McKay's deathly still body. "We don't even know what this thing is. I don't want you poking around just yet."

Zelenka sobered, recognizing the source of the Lt. Colonel's plight and feeling foolish for acting recklessly. Saying nothing, he stood up again and backed away. Ronon looked at him with a stony expression, making it impossible to read what he thought of the Czech just then.

"I'm going to check it out," Sheppard announced, slinging his pack over his shoulder and placing it on the ground. "I'll radio you guys if it's safe to come down. Keep an eye on each other. The Wraith might show up any minute."

"We will be careful, John," Teyla assured him gently. Drawing his mouth into a tight line, Sheppard gave them all one last glare before sliding his feet over the edge of the crumbling sod and into the opening. Ronon grabbed one of his arms and helped lower him onto the platform at the very bottom.

John hissed through his teeth as his feet hit the bottom of the chamber. He'd misjudged the drop and ended up falling three feet further than he'd planned. He reeled a moment to catch his balanced and waited for the stinging to pass. From above, Ronon asked if he was all right. He tilted his head skywards, shielding his eyes from the sunlight.

"I'm fine," he told the Satedan. He vaguely recalled that one time they'd spent searching for an archived ZPM with Rodney, with the Brotherhood. Just being down here reminded him of the mission. And Kolya. Boy, did he hate Kolya.

He didn't bother relaying his orders again. Instead, he lowered his eyes and focused on the chamber in front of him. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the poorly lit interior, and when they did, that 'prickly feeling' he so enjoyed returned. Not only did this place remind him of the Brotherhood underground cavity, it was practically identical to it.

Well, it proved McKay's theory about the ZPM chamber. It really had been built by the Ancients. If only McKay were around to find out—he'd be a hundred bucks richer and a hundred times cockier, since he'd technically won their bet. Sheppard made a point to leave a couple of fifties on top of his grave the next time he visited the mainland. Somewhere in the afterlife, of course, Rodney would probably start complaining about the ugliness of American bills and demand for the Canadian equivalent.

Instead of a wall with a secret compartment for hidden power sources, there was an additional room attached to the dusty corridor. The walls and floor were made with smooth metal and occasionally decorated with softly glowing blue lights. With his P90 ready, he rounded the corner into the adjoining chamber.

"Whoa," he said aloud.

It didn't exactly describe the strange…thing in the middle of the room. He thought immediately of the pedestal Zelenka and McKay had toyed with a long time ago, which led to them discovering the planet with the creepy mind-control guy…Dorane something or other.

Which made him think about McKay, obviously. Back then, Rodney had stayed with him, despite the fact Sheppard was turning into a half-crazed lizard who could hear the thoughts of Ancient devices. Despite the fact that he could have killed the scientist in a fit of uncontrollable rage. Yeah, he'd been a strange guy. A little too stubborn, maybe, but all around a good guy.

Eager to push away any further thoughts of the scientist, John returned his attention to the white pillar in the middle of the room. It had three panels attached to its base. There were a few dozen other stations all around the sides of the room, a few broken chairs and…bodies. Shriveled ones, but not fed upon. They'd died of something else, and he had a strong desire to _not_ find out what it had been.

His eye was drawn slowly to the strange ring on the ceiling. It reminded him of a small Stargate, except it was thinner and plainer. It was resonating with an eerie orange light, but he felt confident that, being something the Ancients' built, that was caused by his proximity to the machine.

"_Co...ne…She...ard,_" he heard Zelenka's voice from one end of the radio. "_The ener...eading is starting to ri…atically. Maybe it's best if…come ba…for now?"_

_Huh_, Sheppard thought. _Interference? If I'm only ten feet underground and there's something blocking the radio, then maybe he's right. I should rethink exploring the scary dark hole in the ground._

"Stay right there," he said over his radio. "I'll be another minute."

He still had to finish exploring this room. He couldn't just head back without learning anything. Heading back empty-handed made certain scientists angry.

Keeping at a distance from the pillar and assorted, lifeless control panels, he circled around to the other side of the room. He found two more bodies, both equally as decomposed at the station to the far north of the pillar machine. He was about to reach out and brush off the top of the one panel that seemed to have power, and was stopped by a memorable sound.

Someone behind him cleared his throat. Loudly. Raising his P90 to his chest, Sheppard spun around to face his foe. Instead of a Wraith, he found him face-to-face with the ghostly pale image of Rodney McKay.

* * *

AN: Hmmm…is that really Rodney? Will we ever find out? Will Yachi apologize for delaying this chapter? Will I ever stop asking questions? No! I still have seventeen more to go! Ahahaha…okay, shutting up. 


	4. Popular Mechanics

**Twenty Questions**  
(by Era Yachi) 

AN: What? Ascended Rodney? Nah, that would be too predictable. And I don't believe in ghosts, sorry. This chapter might get your mind reeling, so be prepared.

* * *

_Popular Mechanics _

"Hi, John."

It was smiling arrogantly. Though it appeared solid and organic, it wavered as the dust in the air pierced the perfect holographic pixels of light it was composed of. The apparition lifted one hand rigidly at its side in a small wave, evidently anxious about their confrontation.

"Sorry…about the, uh…mess," it said, making a rolling gesture with a hand. It seemed to realize that Sheppard wasn't responding right away. "Why, Colonel, you look a little pale. Almost like you've seen a ghost."

John glared at it. "You're not McKay."

"Obviously," the projection scoffed.

"Then what are you?"

"Oh, how ruthless of you." It made a face. "Okay, fine. Let's play, shall we? I'm this facility's system interface. I shamelessly tapped into your brain with a few of the nanites the Ancients left behind." It lifted its hand to chest-level to indicate itself. "This fellow…er, me, Rodney McKay, just happened to be the first topical memory I ran into."

"But you're not Rodney," Sheppard said again, his temper rising.

"Again, I find myself saying—no. I'm not," Not-Rodney snapped. "I do, however, have the most recent installment of protocol technology incorporated into my organic-synthetic contact diagnostic programming. I figured it would be much easier to talk to you as someone familiar rather than introducing you to someone you don't already know."

"Oh," said Sheppard, anything but convinced. He strafed to one side, training the P90 on the hologram. "Recent, you say? As in…ten thousand years ago, or are we talking something sooner than that?"

"Ten thousand years?" Not-Rodney's brow creased and he dropped his arms to his side. "Wow, has it really been that long?" he said, pointing to nothing I particular. "I guess I've been focusing too much on the time field to really notice."

"Time field," the colonel echoed.

Not-Rodney snapped his fingers and turned to his right in one abrupt movement. Sheppard tensed, ready to open fire on the pillar machine if the hologram made any sudden advances, but he didn't seem to notice him anymore. In fact, knowing Rodney, he probably didn't care.

"I just realized something," said the hologram. "Be right back." Then he vanished. Flickered out of sight.

Sheppard eyed the empty spot in its wake for a full minute, trying to deduce just what the _hell_ had happened to him. When he felt more confident that it wasn't going to reappear anytime soon, he edged forward, scouring the area with a long sweep of his eyes. Still nothing happened, not even when he stepped into the section directly beneath the ring.

He swung around to face an abrupt pounding sound to his left, and found himself aiming his weapon at Ronon and Teyla. Both the Satedan and Athosian looked at him strangely, with their own weapons drawn in front of them.

"Colonel, are you all right?" said Teyla, just as Zelenka crept into the room behind them. The scientist was both awed and terribly frightened by the assorted technology that surrounded them.

Sheppard slowly lowered his P90. "What are you guys doing down here? I thought I told you to stay on the ground until I gave the order."

"You were not responding," she insisted.

"We heard voices," said Ronon. "Thought you'd been captured."

The colonel twisted his face in annoyance. "Well, I'm not. Thanks for your concern. Now did either of you happen to see anything on your way down?"

Teyla shook her head, sighing heavily. "No, we saw nothing. "

Ronon just stared at him, unresponsive. Radek was too engaged in one of the wall panels to bother with an answer, which Sheppard assumed was a 'no'.

Suddenly, the apparition of McKay appeared out of nowhere, just nine o'clock from Sheppard's position. Both P90s and Ronon's blaster immediately shot towards it. A red light erupted from the end of the Satedan weapon, passed right through Not-Rodney's body and struck the panel across the room in a shower of sparks.

"Ronon, stand down!" Sheppard roared.

As for Not-Rodney, the hologram was looking at the scorched mark on the wall with derision. "What the—" it protested with Rodney's high-pitched voice, glancing between Ronon and the ill-fated shot. "That wasn't even set to stun, was it?"

For the first time Sheppard had known the man, Ronon looked utterly and completely shocked. His gun-arm went down, eyes darkening with confusion and anger simultaneously. "What the hell?" he growled.

"I know," snapped the colonel. "Just stop shooting your damn weapon every time something moves, all right? I'm still trying to figure this out myself!"

"John, what is happening?" Teyla asked, with an undertone of rage. Both she and Ronon knew that this was _not_ McKay, and just the possibility of an imposter ignited a fire within them. All Zelenka could do was gape in awe, paralyzed in one place as the scene played itself out.

Not-Rodney, oblivious to the tension in the air, took one look at the panel that Ronon had inadvertently destroyed and made a hopeless sound. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back in annoyance. "Oh, I can't believe this. Do you have _any_ idea what you just did, Ronon? _That_," he snapped, extending and arm towards the smoldering hole. "Which you just so gracefully rid me of, was the only thing keeping the Wraith on this planet from terrorizing this galaxy."

Teyla took a cautious step toward the hologram. "Rodney?" she said slowly.

"It's not McKay," Sheppard warned, ignoring the hologram's complaints altogether—which was easy, since it was practically his second nature to take no notice of Rodney when he started to whine. "It's a hologram. I might not understand everything it said, but I'm pretty sure it scanned my memory and made a copy of Rodney."

"That's one way of putting it," muttered the hologram, glaring at him. "Leave it to Mr. MENSA to turn a perfectly comprehensible explanation into a single redundant sentence."

"You can stop that any time," said Sheppard.

The hologram's eyes widened slightly, innocently. "What? Stop what?"

"That," snapped Sheppard. "Acting like Rodney. Not that we don't appreciate the thought or anything, but I'd much rather talk to someone else right now."

"Well, as much as I'd love to obey your every command, Colonel, I'm afraid I can't do that," the hologram bickered back, Rodney's face contorting angrily. "I'm a time machine, not a Lite Brite. I've already overwritten the last imitation in the hologram buffer. The personality comes with the picture. I guess you'll just have to deal with me."

"Look, I'm really not in the mood to get into an argument!" said Sheppard, raising his voice. "Tell us what the hell you're doing here, or I'm gonna start blowing things up!"

Not-Rodney tossed his arms in a helpless gesture and closed his eyes a moment. "Typical military philosophy," he grumbled. "Fine. See this?" he said, pointing to the assorted panels. "This is the control center to a very important time repetition generator. Actually, that would make _me_ the control room to a very—forget it, that's not important. What's important is that the ZPM to this station is about to fail, and the next time the field loops over, the Wraith are going to wake up, and kill everyone on this planet."

Everyone stared at him, uncomprehending. Only Zelenka seemed to follow some of what was being said, and he barely thought to open his mouth before the hologram went on.

"Yes, I know what you're all thinking. Believe me, it makes sense," said McKay's projection. "Right now, you're all standing in the middle of—for the lack of your ability to understand a more complicated term—an invisible bubble. Now inside this bubble, time literally repeats itself over, and over again in a continuous loop every eight or so hours. My job," he said, again pointing to himself as though they had any doubt, "is to make sure that loop never ends, and prevent the Wraith from waking up and killing everyone."

Sheppard squinted at him, not sure if this thing had lost a few screws over the years or if it just wasn't that bright. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…we kind of accidentally woke them up a while ago."

The hologram sighed again and slumped its shoulders impatiently. "No, Colonel. You didn't. The Wraith on this planet, at this exact moment are still dormant. The vast majority of them were caught in the time loop when it reset itself."

This time, Radek decided to interrupt before the matter became too complicated to explain. "I think I understand what this is," he said, stepping forward. "But I still do not understand…if the Wraith were sent into the past, why were Colonel Sheppard's team unaffected by the time loop?"

"Because, Radek, they had already left the field through the Stargate. It sent them forward, to your time, while the Wraith got sent backwards with everything else. Are any of you getting this?"

"Yes."

"No."

Sheppard threw a side-glance towards Zelenka, who had replied at the same time he'd denied any understanding whatsoever of the hologram's logic. He raised his eyebrows, encouraging the scientist to shed some light on the matter.

"Colonel, it is all beginning to make sense," Zelenka insisted. "When we arrived here, we believed the DHD had been fixed, when actually it had not been damaged at all. The damage caused by the Wraith during your first visit technically never happened."

"Because the time…thingy looped back eight hours, before the attack," Sheppard said slowly.

"Exactly," the scientist agreed. "Everything, aside from the…the accident, never actually happened on this planet. It is exactly as it was when you first arrived."

The colonel watched him for a few moments, a question stirring inside his mind that he itched to ask. After everything he'd been through, the possibility of time travel seemed as ordinary as gravity or the sunrise. But it didn't explain an important matter that needed addressing. He finally gave in and said, "Let's assume what you're saying is true, doc. Why isn't McKay alive then, if it never really happened?"

Sadness washed Czech's face and he looked at the hologram briefly before replying. "It did happen, Colonel. You, McKay, Ronon and Teyla were not inside the field at the time of the loop. The loop only applies to the physical space in its boundaries, but not to any specific event, such as…"

"Such as McKay dying," Sheppard finished. "Yeah, I get it."

"Why would the Ancients build such a thing?" Teyla voiced, changing the subject. They were all reminded of the tragedy now, and it was best to avoid aggravating fresh wounds.

"Good question," said the hologram, snorting his contempt. "Don't bother asking me. It's not like they shared the details of my existence with me before they were all brutally murdered. I fact, I doubt they ever counted on me ever becoming self-aware. I guess that goes to show how stupid organic beings can really be, you know?"

"Wait a minute—brutally _murdered_?" said John. "Would you mind telling us why?"

"Hmmm," Not-Rodney hummed. "Not entirely sure. A bunch of men in uniform suddenly burst in and starting shooting everyone. It's a miracle they didn't damage any of my vital systems with those primitive little pellets of theirs or we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

Ronon, Teyla and Sheppard exchanged knowing looks. "The Genii?" Teyla suggested mildly, and they both nodded. It wasn't a surprise that the Genii had shown up and destroyed what was probably a perfectly balanced way of life.

"The people here," Ronon said, looking at the corpses. "They're not Ancients?"

"Who, them?" said the mildly offended hologram. "Of course they're not Ancients. _No_ one lives for ten thousand years, except maybe the Wraith, and it's not exactly like the Ancients were offering them a job. No, they're villagers. Every fifty years or so, new people arrive and take over. That is, they did…until these Genii guys showed up and shot them all. I hope they got stuck in the loop, those arrogant little bastards."

Sheppard listened intently, and for the most part, understood. "Here's a question—"

"Colonel, contrary to the _real_ Dr. McKay, I'm not willing to answer each and every question that comes to your vastly inferior brain," the hologram informed him impatiently. "I lured the four of you here because I could really use your help."

"Help?" said Zelenka, blinking his confusion. He adjusted his glasses. "What can be possibly do to help you?"

"It's rather simple, really," said the hologram smugly. "I just need you to find a way to kill me."

That produced a cold, calculating silence. Eventually, Sheppard reacted. "_What_?"

"Me," said Not-Rodney, clearly thinking they hadn't heard him the first time. "As in me, the Ancient's interface, not 'me', Rodney McKay. Because that's not really…me."

"Yeah, we got that part," said Sheppard bluntly. "Why do you want to be killed, exactly?"

"Well, it's not like I _want_ to be killed," said the hologram with an annoying whine. "Trust me, if I had any other options, I'd choose life, thank you. But seeing as the ZPM powering this entire station is almost completely depleted, options are short in stock. If the loop stops working, and the Wraith wake up, then thousands, if not _hundreds _of thousands of people will die as a result of my failure. But if you somehow rig my system to overload, then the explosion will destroy anything within a three hundred kilometer radius of this spot, including the hive ship."

Sheppard regarded him for a few moments, which obviously made the hologram feel uncomfortable. He shifted in one spot, eyes darting towards the colonel. "What?"

"Are you _sure_ you're not McKay?" said Sheppard.

"No, Colonel, I'm not. April Fools, it's really me, Rodney! I thought it might be fun to pretend I'm a ten-thousand-year old time machine, so the joke's on you. _Yes_, I'm sure I'm not McKay! What kind of stupid question is that?" Not-Rodney snapped.

"Okay, okay," the colonel conceded. "Take it easy! Geez, I get it—it was a dumb question. Tell us about this…plan or whatever it is of yours."

"Colonel," Zelenka suddenly interrupted, stiffening. "Oh my God, I just realized…"

"Oh, this should be interesting," said the hologram, crossing his arms. "What is it, Radek?"

"The last loop," the scientist wanted to know. "When was it?"

Not-Rodney turned to face him, scowling. "About seven hours ago. Why? The loops don't affect this spot in particular You're perfectly safe. Of course, you might have a little trouble getting back to the 'gate, seeing as you can't physically enter the time field from outside its boundaries."

"What?" Sheppard exclaimed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"No, no, no," Zelenka said quickly. "Colonel, we're not the ones we should be worrying about. It is Dr. Beckett and the others—they are no doubt already through the 'gate and searching for us. If they are caught in time loop before they return to Atlantis they will simply…no longer exist."

"We must warn them before that happens," said Teyla, disturbed by the idea that someone could blink out of existence in that way. "Can we not contact them with our radios?"

"Radio waves cannot be carried through a time dilation. We know this already," the scientist explained earnestly. "We essentially have no way to warn them before the loop happens."

"And 'no', before anyone decides to ask, I can't stop the loop from, well, looping," Not-Rodney announced. "The Ancients love fail-safes. Fact of life."

"Radek, what exactly are you trying to say here?" demanded Sheppard, completely ignoring the hologram and its negativity. "We can't do a damn thing to prevent this from happening?"

"I am saying," said Zelenka. "That if we do not do something, Carson and the other members of his team will be erased from the universe itself."

* * *

AN: Told you so. 


	5. In the Loop

**Twenty Questions  
**(by Era Yachi) 

AN: I'm enjoying the feedback. There are actually a few chapters left. Three or four. I can't decide. If you're familiar with SG1, you'll probably be able to predict how this will all turn out. If not, well…surprise. (smiles)

* * *

_In the Loop_

"""""""

Sheppard knew what he had to do. "How far is the 'gate from here?"

It was an open question, meant for anyone to answer. But no one on his team knew the answer. Zelenka might have, but John wasn't so sure he wanted to trust the little Ancient scanner anymore. He was seriously pissed off with everything Ancient right now.

"Too far," the hologram of McKay pointed out with an air of proficiency. "Since you obviously weren't listening, I'll say it again—you can't go back."

"Oh, really?" growled John, swinging around on the projection. "And why is that, Rodney? Can I call you Rodney? You know, you haven't exactly introduced yourself yet, so I think I'll call you Rodney. I like that name."

"You can patronize me all you want, Colonel," it shot back. "It doesn't change the fact that crossing the barrier into time field is am extremely _bad_ idea."

"Explain. Why," said Sheppard, putting a force behind both words.

Unable to come up with a suitable response to that, Not-Rodney looked to Ronon and Teyla for support. Finding none, he let out a frustrated groan. "I already told you, you can't physically cross _into_ the field without some substantial risk of getting yourself killed. The barrier containing the time dilation is weak, so I had to modify the contribution of power to fluctuate every fifteenth of a second. Now while most of these frequencies aren't even remotely strong enough to hurt you, there's always the possibility you'll encounter a power spike, in which case…look, it's a miracle you made it through the first time! The odds that it'll happen again are phenomenally low!"

"What kind of odds?"

The familiar blue eyes darted to the ground and back as the hologram calculated a number. "No, I am _not_ giving you an arbitrary number, Colonel. The spikes are entirely random and have no sequential pattern whatsoever."

"Then I'll take my chances," said the colonel with a certain lack of politeness.

"So will I," Ronon harmonized, powering up his weapon.

Teyla nodded. "We are all in agreement."

"Okay, fine!" snapped Not-Rodney. "Clearly, everything I say isn't going to change your minds. So tell me, oh champions of wonder and light, what you plan on doing after that? I can't override the failsafe on the 'gate for you to dial out before the loop happens again. Do you have any idea how long it took for me to do that the last time, huh? You guys should be thanking me that I cared enough to cannibalize part of my core program just to let you dial out _once_."

"So that was you?" said the colonel with a touch of surprise. "Well, then…thank you. But that doesn't mean we're just going to abandon our people out there because you say so."

"Sheppard," Ronon interrupted.

The colonel turned on the Satedan and read the implication in his face. He looked at Teyla. Her face was taught with agitation, which he recognized easily. "Don't tell me," he said with a 'please-let-this-not-be-happening' way. "It is," she replied, as though coming out of a daze. "The Wraith. Many of them. I was not so sure at first, but the feeling is stronger now…"

"Yes, that would be thanks to the shielding around this station," said the hologram. He frowned at their glares—they were always glaring at him—Radek excluded, of course. "What? How else did you think I hid from the Wraith? Sun block?"

"This is bad," groaned Sheppard.

"The hero of blatancy declares," Not-Rodney grumbled. "You have less than forty-eight minutes to get them, and get back here. I hope you know what you're doing," the hologram went on—and to everyone's amazement, he said it with a small tremble, and he looked almost sick to allow them outside his protective ring.

_Okay_, John thought. _Now that's weird. _

He theorized. It was scarcely more than a transitory thought, but who was to say that this Ancient's control station wasn't more than it claimed to be? He had a hard time imagining that some computer cared enough about Rodney's team to go as far as pretending to show some human concern. He wondered if the holographic program picked up on more than just McKay's image and quirks. Maybe it adapted the dead scientist right down to his commitment to his immortal sense of heroism.

He didn't have time to think about it.

"We don't have time for this," he said aloud. "If there are Wraith around, then Dr. Beckett's group must have done something to wake them up, and if that's the case, they're bound to be in a lot of trouble."

Exploding Wraith bombs. Dammit, it was McKay all over again. The only difference was that they now had Beckett, and if anything went wrong…well, it would still go wrong. But at least he could count on the good doctor to keep any mortally injured members of his team alive reasonably enough until they got the 'gate working again.

"Teyla and Ronon, I'll meet you guys upstairs," he instructed his team before turning on Zelenka, their local expert on the art of rigging explosions. "Doc, I need you to stay here and try and buy us some time. Maybe you can stop the loop, I don't know, but try _something_. If we don't make it back…"

"You will," the Czech scientist said resolutely.

Sheppard half-smirked. "All right, that's the spirit. Good thinking. I'll be in contact the moment we're through."

Radek thought it odd that his jaw ached, but he did nod once, admiring the courage of the colonel for what it was. In many ways, he decided, Colonel Sheppard and Rodney were alike. After all, bravery was still bravery no matter who chose to believe it and why.

Feeling again the persistent urge to leave, Sheppard turned to head into the corridor. He was stopped by that same tingly feeling—the one he didn't like so much. This time, he had a hunch it had something to do with Rodney's hologram staring at him, like an innocent main penned up for a crime he hadn't committed. They chose to stare at each other for about ten seconds or so before breathing—on his part—became a little difficult.

Sheppard wished he could sound happy or encouraging. "It was nice seeing you again, Rodney."

The hologram's McKay-ish face perked a bit into a flattered half-grin. "Thanks," he said without ceremony. "You too, but I'm, uh…I'm not really McKay, remember?"

"Yeah, I know."

There was no point in looking back over his shoulder as he left the dark room and started to climb the rope to the world above. So he didn't. Instead, he focused on the task in his near future—saving the lives of Beckett's science and medical team. And battling the Wraith. Yeah, there'd always be them. He wondered how many he could severe in half with his P90 before he felt retribution for McKay's death.

Five. Ten. Twenty. Yeah. Twenty.

Thousand.

Abut before he went on his twenty thousand Wraith killing spree, he'd hunt down the one responsible for planting that stun bomb. That would be number one. Then he only had nineteen thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine to go.

He should really start counting.

* * *

They survived the crossing, if 'survive' was the right way to put it. Sheppard had a hunch that hologram Rodney overrated their chances of being electrocuted in the barrier of the field, which wouldn't be surprising in the slightest. It was probably just an upshot of McKay's tendency to underestimate their chances of survival shining through the computer's reenactment of the scientist. 

He triggered his radio the moment they stepped out of the dead circle of grass. Formality wasn't an issue. "Doc, you'd better be there."

Beckett's thickly accented voice responded almost immediately. "_Colonel Sheppard? Oh, thank God. We'd thought somethin' terrible had—_"

"Listen, doc, we don't have a lot of time," Sheppard cut in. "There are Wraith in the area, and in about half an hour, we're going to be in even more trouble."

"_Aye, we're quite aware of that,"_ said Beckett. _"I'm afraid we already lost Dr. Fraser in the firs' attack. Padley, ye need tae keep your bloody arm away from your side, or I can't…I'm sorry, Colonel, but I can't work like this. Four of us are wounded, an' we keeping runnin' into the Wraith." _

_"What he's not telling you is that he busted up his own skull falling off a cliff,"_ a vaguely familiar voice followed the gentler one of the doctor. "_Sergeant Derksen here, Colonel. Padley stepped on one of your Wraith bombs and cracked a few of his ribs. Germani, Beaton and Howell all have bruises and fractures and like I've said, the doc stumbled over a cliff and hit his head on rock." _

_"Honestly, ye make it sound like I fell off the bloody Grand Canyon,"_ said Beckett. "_I'm perfectly fine. But I won't be if we don't get out collective arses back through that 'gate soon." _

"I'm sorry, Carson, but that's no longer an option," Sheppard said, glancing over to his other teammates. Teyla's expression was reflective. "I've got a good source who tells me the 'gate won't work on this end. To make a long story short, unless we don't get everyone right here, _very soon_, the Wraith will be the least of our problems."

_"Tha's not going tae be easy, lad,"_ Beckett sighed.

"What do you mean?" John realized he'd give just about anything right now to be able to see their position. "What about the jumper Weir sent you with?"

_"Damaged,"_ came Derksen's voice. "_A dart came out of nowhere and shot out the left pod. We had to pull an emergency landing about one mile from the 'gate, but she won't fly anymore." _

Sheppard closed his eyes and thought, _Dammit, McKay, of all the times I need a jumper fixed faster than humanly possible, now would be it. _But then, if the scientist were here, they wouldn't even be having this problem. They'd still be on Atlantis, blacklisting this god-forsaken planet and burning the memory of their systems with a passion.

"Colonel, the Wraith are…gathering. They are headed for the 'gate," Teyla informed him, her voice on the edge of dread.

"Just like last time," the colonel said under his breath.

_"Colonel Sheppard?" _

He realized he hadn't turned his radio off, and that shook him from his quiet review. "Sergeant, in a few minutes or so, a couple of Wraith darts are going to fly over your position," he said with a somewhat gravelly tone. "You need to take cover, and as soon as they're gone, start heading in this direction. Just stick to the path and keep your back to the sun, no matter what happens. We'll meet you halfway."

_"Yes, sir,_" came the soldier's response.

Sheppard switched off his radio. That's what he liked about Derksen—he followed orders without questioning them. Usually, that was a good thing. In this case, it saved John from having to explain to the military leader of a stranded band of scientists in the midst of a foreign world _why_ he had to lead them deeper into Wraith territory. Derksen must have realized that he had a plan, and didn't want to make things worse by contradicting him.

"All right," he said, turning to the rest of his team. "They're gonna need our help to carry the wounded into the shield. Just like last time—wounded come first, shooting Wraith comes second. That especially goes for you," he finished, rounding on Ronon. "Bottom line. Let's move out."

And as he, Teyla and Ronon rushed of down the narrow, overgrown path that connected the 'gate to the station, part of the puzzle became clear.

The Wraith had shot the jumper out of the air. They'd woken up even before Padley stepped on the Wraith bomb. In a way, this made Sheppard worry. If not the stun bomb, what the hell had made them wake up? And at the same time, it made him feel immensely relieved—if the bomb hadn't awakened the Wraith the first time, then Rodney wasn't directly responsible. No one could blame the poor man for the existence of another hive ship. He was safe from bureaucrats and their damning fingers. Good thing. That was a really good thing.

* * *

Zelenka hovered over the faintly glowing panel, trying to separate the secondary operations from the primary. In terms of system configuration, it was very cannibalistic. He ran into several dead ends, where parts of the computer had been torn out and power from the ZPM had been rerouted to other necessary sections of the station—for instance, the part of the shield that scrambled Wraith sensors. 

"You did this…all by yourself?" he asked the hologram hovering behind him. Even though he tried to focus, Radek found it hard to not think about Sheppard and his team.

"Yes," Not-Rodney grumbled. "And believe me, it was beyond the most painful thing you can imagine. Try hacking off several of your limbs and physically ripping out your veins and arteries. But of course, if I hadn't, this planet would have occupied by Wraith centuries ago."

"Yes, I see," the Czech scientist said softly, adjusting his glasses as his eyes scanned the screen. "You say you feel pain? I find that very surprising."

"Well…" The hologram actually paused. "Technically, I wasn't born…as a machine. Let's just say what I used to be, would be the equivalent of an Ancient terrorist. Figures, as soon as a real genius starts doing something to protect the planets inhabited by Wraith, they label you as a criminal and try to kill you. Barbarians."

Slowly, Zelenka looked up from the databurst he'd been inspecting. "You…are an Ancient?" he said in disbelief.

"Was," it corrected him. "_Was_ an Ancient. My physical body died of old age, but this place…this computer actually _sucked_ me in, like some sort of giant, sentient sponge. Eventually, I forgot about my previous life and built a great big 'super-me' with bits and pieces of memories and thoughts of the people around me."

"Is that how you incorporated Rodney into a holographic projection?"

"That's…part of it, yes." Not-Rodney leaned in over the Czech's shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Zelenka presumed the basis of that question was surprise, rather than ignorance. The computer should know exactly what he was doing, so it was obviously asking 'why' he was doing the complete opposite of what it had asked him to do.

"No, no, no, no, no," Not-Rodney said quickly, pointing to the data streaming across the screen. "You have to overload the core of the field generator, not change it."

"That I will not do," Radek replied gently. "If absolutely necessary, I will put the overload on time delay to make sure Sheppard's team has time to clear the blast. But I believe that it will not be necessary."

"Not neces—" The hologram stopped mid-sentence. "Alright, what did you find?"

"The ZPM," Radek began, focused entirely on the keypad he was now inputting new parameters into, "has very little power left to sustain the shield for much longer."

"Yes, obviously," Not-Rodney snapped.

"The way I see it, we can either let the loop continue to work over itself until the ZPM is depleted, or reverse the field so that it surrounds this control station. Nothing else."

"Have you completely lost your _mind_, Radek?" Rodney's projection practically squeaked.

"Not entirely, no," said Zelenka, with a slight chuckle. "No matter what happens, the ZPM will be depleted and the Wraith will awaken with the others. But if I take advantage of this, to drain the ZPM by sending the station itself into the past, just before Colonel Sheppard and the others come through 'gate to this planet, then the loop will break."

"Because…because we'll be taking the depleted ZPM into the past with us, and the time field will fail," Not-Rodney said breathlessly. "That's insane."

"But necessary," said Zelenka, flashing a brief smile. "And, if we are able to send one person with the field generator into the past, it may be possible to save Dr. McKay's life."

"What?" Now the hologram looked panicked, the corners of McKay's mouth turning down frantically. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? You don't even care that the Wraith will escape!"

"Rodney, that's not true—"

"Yes it is! You—you just don't _get _it, do you?" Not-Rodney shouted. "There are _thousands_ of Wraith on that hive ship! Just in the next few days, they could kill hundreds, if not thousands of innocent people just in this solar system alone!"

"It will happen no matter _what_ we do, Rodney," Zelenka argued, cursing the familiarity of the argument for what it really wasn't—and he wasn't arguing with the real McKay, but a ghost of an impression created by a machine. "Today, tomorrow, or even ten years from now, the time field will fail. This, this loop you have created is ultimately delaying what will happen no matter how many times you use it."

Rodney's hologram was beyond livid by now. Nothing Radek said or did would convince him against his ten thousand-year-old design. Before Not-Rodney could say anything, however, a loud hum suddenly rose from the pillar in the center of the chamber. It grew louder, and more bass gradually. Zelenka didn't need to ask the hologram what it was—he knew already.

"Stop it," said the Czech in a brash whisper, scowling angry at Not-Rodney. "Make it stop, _now_."

"I can't," said the hologram, angrily. "Neither can you. It's the fail-safe, and in less than two minutes, Sheppard and his team will blink out of existence."

The field generator continued to power up, regardless of their bickering. Suddenly, Zelenka broke away from the panel and dashed towards the entrance to the control chamber. Not-Rodney's voice drifted throughout the facility behind him.

"Don't do anything stupid, Radek! There's nothing you can do!"

Zelenka was struggling to climb the robe to the surface, ignoring Rodney, ignoring the blood pounding in his ears, ignoring the thrumming of the ground and vibration under his hand as the entire station came to life. When he hauled himself over the edge of the open pit, he was breathing heavily. He was not meant to be a field scientist. That was McKay's job. He still had to tell Colonel Sheppard about his plan—if he did not make it…

He staggered onto the large plain of flattened, browned grass and hurried to the edge of the barrier, where dead vegetation stopped and healthy plants grew. He saw no one through the thinly space trees. His heart dropped.

But he heard something. Radek felt a spark of relief, and waited a few precious seconds until he saw three figures come crashing through the underbrush. One of them was carrying an unconscious Dr. Beckett—that was Ronon. Sheppard and Teyla were running—or hopping—as quickly as possible with an injured man in between them. Six others, and Radek recognized Howell and Germani among them, were close behind them.

The ground was now pulsing under his feet. Any second. Any second, and it would be all over.

* * *

Running. Damn it, he was trying to go faster, but Beaton had a badly injured leg and could only move half the pace he'd hoped for the entire escape back to the Ancient's station. Sheppard's chest and lungs hurt, his shoulder and back strained under the soldier's weight. He could tell Teyla was faring no better, and Beaton…Beaton was half-conscious with the pain he was experiencing. 

He knew it wouldn't matter. There wasn't enough time to make it. He could see the open clearing now, the repugnant sight of dead grass stark against the greenery. Ronon was just in front of him, labouring under the added weight of the Scottish doctor.

"We're almost there," he called out hoarsely. He didn't know if anyone heard him. They'd all be running a long time, with no rest. The Wraith were right behind them.

The ground was humming all around them. Sheppard threw his back and weight into pulling Beaton along. Teyla picked up on his urgency and matched him, but it wouldn't be enough.

It wouldn't be enough.

They hurtled through the trees, leaning on each other, stumbling, and racing for their lives.

Sheppard looked up, and saw Zelenka through the trees. The good man was watching them, worried, almost frantic. And all the more, helpless to do anything. John suddenly felt terrible. None of them were going to survive this—Beckett, Ronon, Teyla, Derksen, Beaton, Howell…the only one left was Zelenka. And Rodney. They'd have to figure out a way to finish it.

Rodney…McKay. _Shit, Rodney. We could've saved you. Hell, we could have save ourselves. Now I won't even get the chance. _

This wasn't even death. It was obliteration.

Damn, they were so close. Just another few seconds.

He saw Ronon spin around, to face him. They saw each other, and he thought Teyla might have joined the moment. They realized together. They weren't given enough time to say goodbye.

Beneath them, the ground roared, lighting up the world.

John closed his eyes as the world around him swallowed them all.

* * *

AN: Well…um…yeah. (hides) 


	6. What is Necessary

**Twenty Questions  
**(Era Yachi)

AN: (crawls out of her hiding place) I've been writing a long time. I know the wrath of reviewers well. Here is the chapter that explains all…mmm, I love Zelenka, don't you? (and if you don't, you certainly will when this is over. Smiley!)

* * *

_What is Necessary_

"""""""

A breeze rippled through the sunny yellow-and-green leaves, and dew droplets formed on the blades of grass under the canopy. There was a warm glow touching everything under the sun. It was morning.

"C-Colonel? Teyla?" Radek half-whispered, scanning the empty trees for some sign of his missing team. "Ronon?"

Zelenka backed away from the edge of the barrier, skin drained of colour. Colonel Sheppard and the others were gone. Nothing was left. _Nic_.

He could not save them. Had he made enough adjustments, maybe he could have. If he had not been so entirely focused on using the computer to create a new barrier, then he might have extended the loop just a bit more.

And then he knew.

He should not be here.

The colonel should not be here. This planet was a trap of death, nothing more. Ronon, Teyla, Carson, Howell, Padley and the others did not deserve a fate such as this. McKay did not deserve a fate such as this. If they had known, before first came to the planet, and doomed them from ever returning, they would still be alive.

From the moment they set foot on this ground, they were fated to die.

And Radek…Radek wanted to fix this. This is what Rodney would do. Underground, where the computer knew how to bend the rules of time and space, he could use this. Make everything turn out to be the way it was before. Radek knew he could do something, and he would do _everything. _

The hologram was to blame for this. It had misled them into believing it was a compassionate machine, but it had used the cruelest weapon of all—their love for their teammate, and now they had paid dearly. Zelenka would see that remedied.

* * *

"I can fix this."

The hologram flickered on as soon as the Czech stormed into the control chamber. Zelenka's vest was gone, his shirt smeared with dirt and his face and arms just as equally soiled from the climb to the surface. Part of his hair was matted with sweat, and his face read all kinds of emotions. Grief, fear, determination and anger were just a few. There was something about the scientist that Not-Rodney didn't recognize. Nowhere in Sheppard's, Teyla's, Ronon's or even Dr. McKay's recollection was there any data on this. Radek Zelenka was acting irrationally, unusually.

"I can fix this," Zelenka repeated, ignoring Rodney's hologram and placing himself in front of the panel he'd been working at before. "I can contain the time field around this station alone, and change the buffer area from eight hours to six days, three hours and twenty-two minutes. I can drain ZPM, and stop the loop from ever happening again. I can warn Rodney and the others to go back to Atlantis. I can warn them…" The Czech turned his head towards him, narrowing his eyes behind his smudged glasses. "I can warn them about the fail-safe you placed on the 'gate, to prevent them from escape."

Not-Rodney's mouth dropped and he started to squeak a protest, but in one swift movement, Radek stood in front of him, pointing an angry finger in his face.

"I do not like things that lie," he counseled frigidly. Then he returned to the datapad on the wall.

"Radek, you're not…you're not _thinking_ straight," Not-Rodney started to babble.

"No, Rodney, I am thinking clearly," said the scientist, tapping the console with his fingers as he trained on the virtual adjustments he made. "I believe that you never intended to destroy this facility, but to gain control over Colonel Sheppard and his team the same way you control the village. You rob the people of their personality, and their memories You…you wash their brains."

"What? That's ridiculous! What could I possibly have to gain from that?"

"You need someone to run this facility. When Colonel Sheppard and his team arrived, you learned from them the existence of Atlantis and another ZPM. I believe you were intending to use them to get that ZPM and continue the experiment."

"_What _experiment?" the hologram cried.

"I read the log you secreted in the construction of your barrier code," Radek informed him. "You are the one who awakens the Wraith. After every loop, you record the data collected during the culling of the village. This time field was never created to protect the people of this planet, only to imprison them. To…to _torture _them." Never had Radek felt so frustrated or enraged. He felt sick, too. Sick with grief. And tired, with the deceiving computer.

He didn't notice the hologram's stricken expression. Not-Rodney slowly let the corners of his mouth fall, and then they twisted into an angry scowl. "Don't interfere, Radek," he said darkly.

"It's too late," the Czech scientist replied. "I have already set the parameters of the new loop. Once I execute it, it will be over."

"But that will kill me!" Not-Rodney exclaimed desperately, stepping toward him. "Don't you get it? All I've ever worked for was to protect this galaxy from the Wraith! If you do this, it will all be for nothing! If I die, _he_ dies," he continued, tapping his holographic chest with a finger. "Is that what you want?"

"No, you were never Rodney." Zelenka stared at him coldly. "Rodney would not put his own life before others. If you had a shred of the real McKay in you, you would truly understand what it means to protect someone."

The cloudy blue eyes of his dead friend stared directly into him. Feeling triumphant and horribly guilty at once, Radek tore away and reached for the pad to execute the loop.

"Don't do this," said a new voice behind him.

Zelenka spun around to find not McKay standing in front of the white pillar, but Dr. Weir. She still had the same, misted eyes of the hologram. She gazed at him unrelentingly. "Don't make this mistake, Radek. What I do here is for the better of all humanity. You know that."

He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to block her out. Something inside his head was trying to force its way into control, like a cold, hardened hand wrapping itself around his mind. He had to fight that, to save McKay, to save Sheppard and Atlantis. Against his will, his hand jerked back from the panel, shaking uncontrollably.

"You're doing the right thing, doc," said Sheppard's voice. Zelenka was made to look at the colonel's face as the hologram moved closer. "You can't change the past, remember? All you can do is learn from it. I thought I taught you that."

The hologram reached out to pat him gently on the shoulder. "C'mon, Radek. Let's just forget all this and take a walk, okay? It's over now. We have to move forward."

Move…forward? Radek blinked, trying to remember what it was that he was trying to do. Was he trying to go forwards, or backwards? What about everyone else? Why was he alone all of a sudden?

"We need you, Dr. Zelenka," said Teyla, resting both of her hands gently on his shoulders. "Please, don't allow our sacrifices to be in vain. You are the only one who can make the future safe for everyone."

That's right. Safe. He had to save everyone.

With a renewed strength, he shoved the fog in his head to one side and finally saw everything clearly. Teyla's form melted away to reveal the shriveled, wrinkled face of an old man—someone he didn't recognize. It had almost taken him over completely. The computer no longer had its hold on him. With another shove, a stronger one, he pushed the frail Ancient away from him. The old man was sent stumbling backwards, until his back struck the pillar.

Zelenka reached over to the keypad and smashed his palm against it. At once, the chamber around him began to hum to life, thrumming with the last strain of power from the ZPM.

He looked back to the hologram, only to find the old man replaced with Rodney again. Only this time, there was blood covering his hands. A dark red stain spread across his uniform, gushing from the ugly wound in his stomach. Trembling, Rodney lifted his head to look at him in disbelief. "What…what have you done?"

"What is necessary," Zelenka whispered sadly.

The last he saw of Rodney McKay was the painful mixture of astonishment and hurt in a pair of cloudy blue eyes. And then the white light sprouted from the ground and bathed them both in a cold, wrenching feeling.

Then it was over.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, it was dark inside the white room. The floor under his skin was no longer warm, radiating with life or presence, as would a person before it encountered death. Feeling the weight of guilt and uncertainty crushing him from above, Zelenka laboriously pushed himself to his feet. Somehow, he had lost consciousness in the passage from one time to another.

If he had done everything correctly, he should now be on H4W-020, in the control room, only minutes before Colonel Sheppard and his team arrived through the Stargate. Hopefully, he hadn't miscalculated.

The control facility was dead. A jump so extensive had cost the ZPM the remaining energy stored in its crystalline chamber. And the hologram was also gone with it, a mere fragment of the computer that died with its counterparts. It could only mean that the time field containing the loop was also gone. For the first time in ten thousand years, time itself was allowed to proceed as it was meant to be.

Zelenka felt his heart lurch. Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, Carson and…Rodney. They were still alive. But he had been unconscious for some time—how much time did he have left? It could already be too late. McKay might already be wounded beyond Beckett's help. He had to make it to the 'gate before the Wraith made it impossible to dial out.

He activated his radio. "Colonel Sheppard? Dr. McKay?"

He waited.

Nothing happened.

Frantically, Radek pulled the earpiece away and looked at it—the microphone had been snapped in half. It either broke when he fell unconscious, or when he was climbing the rope to the ground above. But now he had no way of contacting them, of knowing what was happening. Which meant he had no time to waste.

He jolted to life, darting from the darkness of the chamber out into the slightly illuminated corridor. The rope was scarcely a challenge the second time around—he just ignored the harsh bumps and bruises he received from the lose stones and hardened dirt. Even at a running pace, it would take him nearly ten minutes to reach the 'gate. He had no time.

No time at all.

Zelenka sprinted across the dead grass and into the thinly space trees. Every step worsened his bruised ribs. He continued to run. At any moment they—

Two darts screamed past him overhead. The Wraith crafts overlooked him, obviously in pursuit of some other prey—bigger prey. They had awakened, which meant that Rodney had already detonated the stun bomb. It was only a matter of minutes before the DHD would be shot to pieces, and a short amount of time until it was too late to save Rodney from almost certain death.

He ran faster.

He ran until he felt every jarring step felt like fire to him. His lungs were ready to explode. He did not encounter any Wraith, but he did not find himself so lucky. They would find no interest in a single man, weakened, running right into their hands. It only meant that they were converging on the Stargate already, intending to hunt down any survivors of the culling that might be tempted to escape via wormhole.

Eventually the path thinned again, the heavy-set trees blending into long grass and large, jagged boulders. Zelenka forced himself to stumble into the clearing where the 'gate stood, tall and proud and welcoming. But there also stood the DHD, intact, unharmed. He'd made it. He could fix everything.

Struggling for breath, he made his was towards the dialing device. He reached out, just yards away from placing his hand on its surface and focused in his mind on the coordinates—

He heard the dart and felt the hot explosion on his back simultaneously. His world literally blew apart. Searing pain struck his side, and the warmness of his own blood flowed out of the broken skin. Zelenka collapsed just as his hand struck the face of the DHD.

The sound of darts swam in and out of his head. His life was ebbing away, swiftly. Everything hurt. But his hand, as though working on its own agenda, found enough strength to form a strong grip on the edge of the dialing device. Resisting the urge to cry out, the scientist heaved himself to his feet, leaning on top of the DHD for support. His fingers numbly punched in the symbols for Atlantis.

He heard the darts again, returning to claim their prey. Gritting his teeth, Radek slammed his hand on the orb in the middle of the device. He watched the blue wave wash over the stone dais, and connection was made. He'd reached Atlantis.

Zelenka dropped to the ground, pulling himself to rest against the side facing the blue, wavering pool. The screaming buzz was getting closer. With blood-soaked hands, he found a slippery grip on his sidearm. Pulling it out, he then slumped forward and continued to crawl towards the 'gate.

The darts were almost above him. He fought to drag himself over the last step on the dais and stretched his arm out, immersing his hand—and the berretta—into the event horizon. He released the handle of the weapon. It clattered on the stone, sticking partway out of the 'gate, ensuring that it would remain open for the next thirty-eight minutes.

There. He was finished. He had fixed everything.

Radek relaxed against the cool surface of the dais, closing his eyes and giving into the racket of the Wraith dart as it swept over him. He saw the flash of the beam before it took him.

That was okay.

It was time to go anyway.

* * *

"_Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir. Are you there?" _

He stopped in the middle of the dense undergrowth, for a moment not believing what he'd heard. Then, slowly, it dawned on him that Elizabeth was, in fact, talking to him over his radio. How exactly it was possible was a complete mystery to him. But this was no time to be ungrateful.

"Elizabeth, you have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice," he said, after triggering his radio. He glanced over his shoulder at Ronon, trying his best not to think about the gasping McKay in the man's arms.

_"Why? What's happened?" _There was concern in her voice. "_Colonel_?"

"Well, for starters, we're being chased by Wraith, and Rodney's hurt pretty bad," Sheppard said with a rough edge on his voice. "What's going on? I mean, this is great and everything, but what made you decide to dial in early?"

There was a brief pause. "_Colonel, we didn't dial the 'gate. You did." _

This, of course, was worth a significant shock to the brain. She might as well have accused him of tearing a hole in the fabric of space with his bare hands. "You know, I think we should ponder this another time. We've got a medical emergency, so get Beckett—hell, get the whole damn infirmary in there. He's pretty bad."

_"All right, we're on it. Keep him alive, John." _

"Yeah, I planned on it," he said, shutting off the radio. "Okay, let's move out."

The stretch from there to the 'gate was uncannily barren of Wraith. Sheppard kept his mind trained on things other than the distant wailing of darts and the strong possibility that a small army of life-sucking aliens was now chasing them. He thought of the sound of the Stargate instead, the jagged breathing of Rodney as he fought for his life with every lungful of air. He thought of Teyla's determined expression, despite the odds they were against. He saw Ronon, battling a few cracked ribs against the weight of the physicist, their teammate.

In a big way, he felt lucky that he had them. Like they had cheated destiny. That somehow, they were going to face against an enemy they'd never seen and still pull through victorious. Was that crazy?

It didn't matter, actually. They were never, _ever_ coming back to this planet for as long as he still had blood in his veins.

They broke into the clearing, with the 'gate and it's brightly glowing event horizon tall and proud, and welcoming. The sight of so much blood pooled on the stone around it alarmed him, but there was no trace of the body it belonged to. Whoever it was, he had a pretty good feeling they had something to do with the 'gate being open. They owed their lives to someone they didn't even know. He felt that annoying tingling feeling return.

_Thanks_, he thought to no one in particular. It felt better to think it, anyway.

Four Wraith darts screamed at them from above the treetops. Sheppard waved Ronon and Teyla towards the 'gate, training his P90 to the closest ship in the sky. The sound of two bodies passing through the event horizon cued him to move. He backed into the blue pool.

The trip through the 'gate was longer than he remembered. By the time he landed on the other side and turned around, his mindset went from dedicated soldier to anxious friend. The 'gate closed behind him, severing any connection he had to H4W-020 along with it.

A team of medics were already pulling Rodney's unconscious body from Ronon's arms. Beckett was throwing orders around like confetti. He was remotely aware of Elizabeth as she jogged down the steps towards him, her face paled at the sight of McKay's condition. Zelenka was close behind her, looking more confused than anyone else.

"John, how did this happen?" Weir asked, directing her at him confidently for an answer.

He was fatigued, heavy with exhaustion and now delirious with the pain of his own injuries. Go figure. He was hurt worse than he'd thought. Stupid adrenaline.

"Sorry, 'lizabeth," he said, the word feeling thick and strange on his lips. "Gotta ask…a 'yes' or 'no' question."

He promptly lost consciousness.

* * *

AN: A lot's happened in this chapter, eh? One more to go. It will be titled 'In Which Beckett Gets Very Little Sleep' for obvious reasons. Smile everyone. 


	7. Awake and Dreaming

**Twenty Questions**  
(by Era Yachi) 

AN: In opposition to what I said earlier, there's still one more chapter after this. (nods) It will be a few days however, since I am apparently leaving for the weekend. Thanks for the all the wonderful feedback!

-------

_Awake and Dreaming_

-------

The faint howling of Wraith darts buzzed through his mind. John snapped awake, instinctively trying to reach for his P90 that wasn't there. His eyes slowly came into focus as the high-pitched scream of the enemy craft grew louder and more intense.

Instead of Wraith warriors, however, he spotted the white coats blue uniforms of the Atlantis infirmary moving around the end of his bed. The sound of the screaming darts slowly blended into a single, flat tone that seemed to overwhelm everything else.

He felt the tug of an IV in his wrist. Grimacing, he wrenched it out and chucked it aside. Beckett could complain all he wanted later, just as soon as he figured out what the hell the commotion was about. One of the nurses must have heard him, because she turned around and said something to one of the doctors—Dr. Eldman something or other. He couldn't hear her over the jumble of other voices.

The dark-skinned Dr. Eldman crossed the floor in a few quick strides. Sheppard turned his eyes sharply towards him. He didn't like the other man's expression.

Looking past him, the colonel focused on the center of the event across from him—he recognized the crash cart, but he didn't recognize the sickly pale man in the bed. Someone reached over and switched off the heart monitor, ending the drone of the flatline. Nothing more could be done, evidently.

Okay. Sheppard felt the clenched sensation in his chest ease. Not Rodney.

Under other circumstances, he might have felt bad not asking about this other guy. But right now, he knew his teammate was probably inches away from undergoing the same fate.

"Where's McKay?" he asked, before Eldman could get a word in edgewise.

The older man clasped his hands in front of him. "Dr. McKay is with Dr. Beckett, in surgery. Rest assured, he's in good hands. How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"I'm fine. Teyla and Ronon?"

"Oh, you mean the two friendly-looking folk waiting just outside the room?" the doctor said with a brief smile. He had a good-natured chuckle. "Fine enough they weren't even admitted. Mr. Dex had some slight bruising around the ribs, but he's a stalwart figure. He'll survive. I think they miss you," he added, with a slight lift of his brow.

Sheppard almost laughed. If Eldman were anything like Carson, he'd have chased Ronon down, tackled him, strapped him to a bed and condemned him to a week's worth of recovery. But it sounded like Carson had his hands full already.

"I'll bet they do," John said. His voice was hoarse. "How's…Rodney?"

Ah, here was the part where it got complicated. The corners of the doctor's mouth and eyes dropped, his one hand unconsciously gripping the other a little more tightly. Eldman reached over and pulled a chair closer to the side of the bed, sat down, and sighed lengthily.

"There are some difficulties…with the procedure," the doctor explained, keeping his voice low enough so only Sheppard could hear. "Now I'll be honest, this whole thing scares me silly. We're talking about massive internal bleeding, torn arteries, serious infections, Colonel, the likes of which I've never seen while looking down at the living. The object of incursion punctured his kidney, and messily. I can't even guess how long he'd kept on if you hadn't brought him here."

Sheppard absorbed this with a dispassionate exterior. But inside, he felt the answer eat away at him. If the 'gate hadn't magically opened by itself, or if the Wraith had beaten them to the site, then Ronon would probably be in the bed across from him. And Beckett wouldn't be performing an autopsy instead of surgery. And he'd have a bigger headache.

He glanced at the floor sharply. "What about now? Can't you give me a…a percentage, or something? What are his chances?"

"Of surviving the surgery?" said Dr. Eldman with a sigh that sounded like a half-hearted laugh. "I don't know. I've seen too many miracles today to be sure. But I'd say he has a _very_ slim chance of surviving Dr. Beckett's wrath even if he does pull through."

"Yeah, that sounds like Carson."

"Indeed it does." The doctor stood up, eyeing him with that familiar 'stay-in-bed-or-I'll-drug-you' look. "As for you, Colonel, you have a fractured collar bone and a few bruises—I won't tell you how many, though. You'll find out soon enough. Believe me, it's enough to keep your grounded for a few days, and that's merciful compared to what Dr. Beckett would have done with you."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, doc," said Sheppard, feeling as though he'd rather be alone now.

"A nurse will be with you shortly to plug you in again." Eldman nodded at the IV tube dangling over the side of the bed as he moved off. "No sudden movements. I'm watching you, boy."

Sheppard slowly leaned back against the soft mattress, letting the sounds of the tragic aftermath take him to a state of deep thought. There were days he'd actually felt like wrapping his hands around McKay's neck until he shut up, but now he'd settle for just a single, mumbled complaint to put his mind at ease. The doctor had spent a good few days in the infirmary before, and most other times it was spent barking orders at every passing nurse to make his stay all the more comfortable for him. When—or if—Rodney arrived, fresh from surgery, the only thing John would be treated to was the monotonous blipping of a heart monitor.

Some days it really sucked to have friends.

-------

Elizabeth gazed at the walls of her office, reflecting on the previous day's catastrophe until the room started to spin. Words did not exist that could describe how tired she felt, after losing a night of sleep over Dr. McKay's condition. Carson paid her a visit an hour ago to update her on the condition of the physicist. Even though he'd tried to wash the better part of the blood from his hands, it had the tendency to stick in places, like fingernails. He was also a victim of lost sleep, and far worse for it.

Rodney was neither improving nor faring worse after he'd finished with the surgery. As far as they were concerned, the bleeding had stopped and his pulse was steady, if a wee bit weaker than he had hoped for. They could only wait and hope for the best.

It wasn't so much the words he spoke that bothered her, but the way he said them. Carson was a good man with a good heart, but did poorly when it came to concealing certain truths. McKay had a slim to zero chance of ever opening his eyes again.

He'd reached over the desk and gently patted her hand before leaving. Somehow, despite this encouragement, she couldn't make herself smile in return.

The walls of her office continued to turn mercilessly, until she heard a gentle knock just outside the door across from her desk. She raised her head to find a familiar Athosian face standing just a few feet away.

"Teyla," she said, surprising herself with how scratchy her voice sounded. "Please, come in. I'm sorry, I was just thinking to myself and I must have lost track of time."

With a comforting expression, Teyla approached her and sat in the chair across from the expedition leader. "Dr. Weir, I have come to…talk to you about something."

More than glad to have her mind distracted by something other than Rodney, Elizabeth leaned forward, folding her hands on top of the desk in front of her. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

Teyla was obviously disturbed by something, though not upset in any way. The Athosian inhaled deeply before starting. "I believe I have solved the mystery surrounding the Stargate opening on M4W-020."

"What?" Weir felt her heart skip a beat. "Not that I doubt you in the least, Teyla, but can you be certain of that?"

"Yes," Teyla said with an edge of uncertainty, "Ronon did tell you about the blood we encountered when we arrived at the 'gate."

Weir nodded, remembering the conversation she'd had with the Satedan about the mysterious blood covering the stones around the Stargate on H4W-020. She'd barely thought about it after that, given the circumstances.

"I discovered some of the blood as I was removing my gear. I'm not sure why I thought to have it analyzed, but now I am glad. I gave the sample to one of Dr. Beckett's associates and the results were…rather unusual."

"You mean to say that a match was found in our records?"

Teyla nodded solemnly. "There was. The blood is Dr. Zelenka's."

Weir lifted a hand to cover her mouth. "Oh my God."

The Athosian answered with a small sigh. "I realize how crazy it must sound, but the test was run several times. They were all positive."

"But Radek never left Atlantis," Elizabeth reasoned. "I was in the 'gate room the entire time you were on that planet. There's no way…"

"Believe me, Dr. Weir. I doubt we will ever truly know what happened on that planet, but I am _very_ sure that Dr. Zelenka was responsible for opening the 'gate and ensuring our save arrival in Atlantis."

Elizaebth was struck with a sudden wave of sadness. She knew, just by Ronon's accurate and horrific description, that something awful must have happened to the Zelenka accountable for all this. Clearly, more had happened on that world than they could start to imagine.

Yet in her experience, with as many alternate universes and time devices she knew existed, it was entirely possible that another Radek had died saving Sheppard's team. She felt a sudden swell of affection for the scientist. He'd done more for them than he knew, had been braver than he anyone suspected of him and she knew, without a doubt, that she had to pass this on to him.

"Thank you, Teyla," she said, after a lengthy pause. Her voice was hoarse now, for a different reason. "Knowing about this is…is more than I could ask for right now."

"I understand." Teyla said gently. "I…think I will return to the infirmary now, with Ronon. Visiting hours will begin soon.  
As she stood up to leave, Weir found herself unable to be alone anymore. "Wait."

Teyla stopped, turning around to face her.

"I'm coming, too," Weir informed her with a new resoluteness.

Teyla smiled.

-------

Blip.

_Ow…_

Blip. Blip.

Of course, the first thing he had to wake to was the rush of pain just above his shoulder. Sheppard grimaced as the lights made his eyes dance out of focus, before turning his head towards the rows of beds next to him.

There lay the man of the hour, in bed number four. A few empty sheets separated him and the scientist. The annoying—yet wholly reassuring blipping noise was coming from that heart monitor John had been expecting. It was attached to the annoying—yet wholly reassuring Rodney lying motionless on the mattress beside it.

_Son of a…_He shut the thought off abruptly. He chest hurt like two hells for the price of one, but the fact that one of his closest friends was lying unconscious with a hole through his stomach nearby made his own injury seem like a pinprick.

But still.

His next question was: how long had he been out? He didn't even remember falling asleep. Which was dumb, since people usually don't remember that kind of thing anyway. He could really use an aspirin right now. One that could knock out a horse.

"Sheppard?"

Oh, Ronon. John slowly titled his head towards the entrance to the infirmary to find not only Ronon, but Teyla and Elizabeth coming towards him as well. Someone started a party and didn't even think to invite him. How thoughtful.

They were all momentarily distracted by McKay, whose only response to the arrival of their guests was to continue acting comatose. Weir went right over to the side of Rodney's bed and just sort of…looked down at him for a while—okay, this was a bad time to feel jealous, but he also felt kind of…sorry. He was the team leader after all, and if McKay didn't make it, he might as well wear a sign that read 'I let him die' for the rest of his life.

Right. That was a little overdramatic. Hell, he needed painkillers.

"How are you feeling, John?" said Teyla as she neared him. Ronon stood next to her, dividing his attention between Sheppard and McKay with short glances.

Sheppard sighed—and regretted it an instant later as another flash of pain shot through his body. He grunted. "Ah…yeah, I'm great. Pain medication's wearing off, I think. Hurts like hell. I've been through worse. You guys can shut me up any time now."

"How long are they keeping you here?" said Ronon.

"Long enough. A couple of days, tops," the forced response came. "It's nice for you guys to drop by."

"It's nice to see you," Teyla said gently.

A silence ensued where no one found anything to say. That was probably because they were saying all the wrong things—at least, the things that weren't immediately on their mind.

"Yeah, we can stop the bullshit now," John said, not bothering to hide the harsh tinge of his voice. "We're all thinking about Rodney. Truth is, you probably know tons more than I do, so spill it."

"He's stable for now," Weir announced, breaking her personal silence. "Carson seems to think he's going to take a long time to recover. Apparently, it's still likely he can crash at any moment."

Sheppard glanced at her appraisingly. "Beckett told you that?"

She turned to face him, with 'that look'.

He bobbed his head. "Oh, right."

"We were very lucky to reach the Stargate in time," Teyla pointed out quietly. "We have you to thank for that, John."

"Don't…just don't," Sheppard said with an unexpected sharpness. "The only one we should be thanking is whoever dialed the 'gate for us. And what's up with that, anyway? I'm still a little creeped out by the fact we were saving by an invisible bleeding man."

And the expression on both Weir's and Teyla's faces told him that he should be prepared for a long-winded explanation for that, too. That's okay. He had a lot of time.

"That's it," he said, sighing raggedly. "Someone start explaining before I pass out."

So they did.

-------

AN: One more chapter to go! I need a hamster.


	8. Bedside

**Twenty Questions**  
(by Era Yachi) 

AN: I feel the need to prove that the 'tap-click-tap-click' of a computer keyboard is far, far less noisy than a hamster in a squeaky exercise wheel at 4:00 in the morning. I'm writing a book called Things Far, Far More Annoying Than Pet Hamsters but I'm behind on my practical research. And sleep. And I have Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 stuck in my head.

Anyway, insomniac demon rodents and non-existent literature aside, here's the last chapter. (thumbs up)

* * *

"""""

_Bedside_

"""""

Three days later, McKay's heart stopped.

The infirmary exploded into chaos, jerking Sheppard out of slumber—sleeping off an argument with Carson about an extended stay took much longer than he expected. Beckett, Dr. Biro and several hands with names he couldn't remember crowded the tight space around Rodney's bed, charging the defibrillator repeatedly and distributing volts of electricity into the physicist's chest. Halfway through the second charge, Ronon burst into the room, looking rough and tired, as though he'd spent the night out in the hallway.

The next jolt didn't restart McKay's heart. Neither did the third. After that, Ronon had to pin Sheppard back to the mattress while a nurse injected him with a sedative. He fought back. Ronon held him, restless but silent.

They tried again.

And again.

After the sixth attempt, the shrill whine of the heart monitor cut through the atmosphere with a definite, fatal statement. Beckett's throat tightened. He leaned over the lifeless body, placing the end of his stethoscope down with a shaky hand. Taking a deep breath, so as to not mistake the blood pounding in his ears for a second heartbeat, he moved the small metal disc and listened intently. As the silence around the room grew, so did the one inside Rodney's chest.

Slowly, Beckett straightened and lowered the triangular piece of equipment so it hung about his neck. He felt everyone's eyes drilling into him expectantly. Voice raw with sleep deprivation and the loss of a good friend, he croaked, "He's gone."

"No, he's not," hissed Sheppard through clenched teeth. Even the sedative was no match for the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Colonel, it's true. I promise you, I wouldn't lie about this," the Scottish physician told him, aggrieved.

"I'll call it," Dr. Biro said gently. When no one objected, she placed a quiet hand on McKay's forearm. "Time of death is oh six thirty-eight zulu, six thirty-eight A.M. SGC standard."

As her voice droned on, Sheppard was stopped cold, watching the motionless scene unfold in front of him. It was the sick, old man all over again. The crash cart was there; some of the faces surrounding him were the same. No one reached out to shut off the monitor, though. No one gave up on McKay that easily, not when they'd suffered him this long and lived to tell about it.

"He's not dead," he insisted loudly, angrily while he fought off Ronon's restraining arm. When he invoked no response, he resorted to the only ears he knew were probably listening. "You here me, Rodney? You're not dead! Open your _goddamned_ eyes and listen to me, McKay! I'm ordering you!"

Some of the nurses and even Dr. Biro averted their eyes uneasily. Beckett's face was flushed, and even his eyes were glassed as he turned on their struggling military leader. "Colonel, I'm askin' you tae not make this any—"

"Carson, shut up!" John barked. He glared daggers at Rodney's body. "I'm gonna make this simple for you, Rodney. Either you wake up right now, or I'm going to hunt your ass down and _drag_ you back here with me. You're tougher than this and you know it, so stop it with the act and start breathing!"

Beckett gazed at him with soft, sad eyes. "I'm truly sorry, Colonel. I really am." His head turned to a nurse standing by. "Administer a stronger sedative for the colonel, luv. He needs the rest now."

"Rodney!" John only pried harder at Ronon's arm, acting on wild impulse. "Rodney, if you think I'm kidding, you're wrong! This is you _last_ chance!"

A few of the military personnel present started to move toward him. They'd been reluctant to act against their commanding officer up until now, but they clearly thought Sheppard was behaving irrationally and started to intervene.

John glanced at them coldly before fixing his eyes on McKay again. He knew this was crazy, and logic told him he was probably losing it, but he knew there was _something_ left. When Rodney was gone, he expected a…void or something. Some really big, annoying chunk of the city would go missing. It just didn't seem that way yet. He wouldn't believe a damn thing until he was absolutely sure there wasn't a part of Meredith Rodney McKay left in the Pegasus Galaxy.

A few seconds passed. Nurse needles-a-lot was approaching, but he flat-out ignored her. He waited; tense, listening. And finally it happened.

The monitor beeped.

It might as well have been a gunshot for the way it affected the occupants of the room. There was a second-and-a-half lag before it beeped again, and then again, establishing a slow, but completely normal rhythm.

Suddenly, McKay's eyes shot wide open. His lips opened partially and his head jerked forward, gasping and drawing in mouthfuls of air while he choked, as though surfacing from the depths of a deep pool of water. At once, his entire body began to thrash violently.

"He's going into convulsions!" someone shouted.

"Oh my God," Beckett swore, voice mixed with both sheer disbelief and immense relief. He fell upon McKay, trying to restrain one flailing limb and issuing commands to every last medical personnel in sight. Bending his head low, he spoke firmly to the half-conscious Rodney on the bed, still twitching despite everyone's best efforts to hold him down. "Rodney, can ye hear me, lad? That's it, look righ' this way, at me."

"C-Car…s-s—" McKay sputtered. His eyes darted around the room frantically. "Sh-Sh-Shep…Shep'rd…?"

"I'm right here, buddy," Sheppard told him, unable to hold back the laugh in his voice. _I hate my fuckin' job. This really makes it official. Rodney, you son-of-a-bitch, you're too goddamned hard to handle sometimes. Geez…_

Maybe Rodney heard him, and maybe he didn't. A moment later, his flickering eyes rolled back in his head and he passed right out. The monitor blipped happily away as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

There was a collective sigh of incredulity and release around the circle of physicians. All three nurses decided to edge away, giving Beckett a reasonable amount of space to collect himself. Carson turned to face Sheppard.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Even Ronon felt the strange vibe in the air and withdrew his arm, releasing the colonel. When no one else made a statement, the Satedan dropped his eyes to his team leader. "What the hell."

"Yeah…I know," said Sheppard, relaxing against the bed. He was too busy concentrating on the steady beeping of the heart monitor to come up with a more sophisticated answer. Besides, his body was starting react to the sedative. He was getting _very_ tired.

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but this is a bloody miracle," Beckett said gravely. "Things like tha' just don't happen an a day-tae-day basis. You know something we don't."

"Yeah, I guess I do," the colonel sighed. "Let's just say…that I know that McKay won't do a damn thing until he's...well, he just needed a little convincing, that's all."

"Convincing?" said the doctor with a tremulous voice packed with bewilderment. "Rodney's just died and sprung back to life because he was in need of a wee bit of encouragement? Oh, well, that explains a lot!"

"I'm convinced," Ronon offered with a broad grin.

"There, see?" Sheppard said, his voice gravely with exhaustion. "Ronon believes me."

Recognizing that the colonel was about to lose consciousness, Beckett's softhearted nature got the better of him and he sighed. "Alrigh' then, be that way. We'll see what Dr. Weir has tae say about this."

"Tell her I say 'hi'," came the complacent reply. Sheppard's eyes closed and he was out like a light.

* * *

In all the time he'd spent in Atlantis, Zelenka could not remember the city being so quiet. Many of the techs and fellow scientists that joined him in the lab hardly spoke a word. Perhaps Rodney's penchant to expressing his mind as vocally and abusively as possible made them feel more comfortable in a working environment. Or maybe McKay's self-proclaimed 'underlings' really did feel a fondness for their tyrannical Chief Scientific Advisor. 

Radek was inclined to believe the latter. Early this morning, Dr. Chautervi—a relatively new addition to the science division with a personality akin to a cactus—had publicized his belief that Atlantis would be better off with McKay out of his own misery. He might have assumed at the time that others would openly agree with him, fueling his colossal ego. This was not the correct thing to believe.

Radek had been forced to—painstakingly—step between the cowering Chautervi and the several lab techs that were…'helping' him reevaluate his opinion. The Czech had then ordered the foolish man out of the lab. One of the marines who had come to investigate the upheaval, 'accidentally' tripped him on his way out, and Radek didn't feel the least bit sorry when no one offered him a hand up.

Today was a very large headache. He would have been content to resign early and head to the mess hall, but Dr. Weir then paid him a visit. She told him about the incident in the infirmary just this morning, the actuality of Rodney's situation and how narrowly he had pulled through.

Before she left, he read in her face something else—and after knowing Rodney for a few years, Radek was accustomed to reading people. Maybe she wanted to tell him another thing, but she could not express it properly.

"Is there…something else, Doctor?" he had queried carefully.

"No." But she read 'yes'. "It's getting late. You need to get some rest. The past few days have been tough on everyone."

His intention was to follow her counsel, of course. After they parted ways, he went straight to his personal lab to recover a few items he would need for tomorrow. The hour was late in the city and most residents were already back in their quarters.

As soon as he reached his destination, he knew something about its interior had changed. He was good at remembering where he placed specific items and in what order. There was something in his lab that did not belong.

It did not take long to spot the brown paper package on top of his desk. Radek frowned suspiciously before approaching it. Even in the dim lighting, he could make out the thick letters drawn on its side in black marker. _Dr. Zelenka_.

There was no doubt that this parcel was meant for him. There was also something oddly familiar about the handwriting. Cautiously, he sat down at the chair and picked up the package. An object inside its paper folds shifted. When he tilted it, it shifted again. With precision, he tore the end of the paper open and allowed the item inside to slide into his hand.

It was a shiny silver disc, attached to a blue and red striped ribbon. He had seen medals such as these before, given to soldiers who had performed deeds of great sacrifice and bravery. But this could certainly not be for him. He was no soldier, and he had done nothing to deserve a medal of any kind. He spotted a single, pale yellow sticky note attached to the inside of the brown paper. He took it, not quite understanding.

_Thanks._

That was all it said. There was no other explanation. Bewildered, he looked about the room for some other clue, but found none.

He suddenly felt as though he had missed something important. He very much doubted that it was unrelated to the mission on H4W-020, but even so, his involvement had been minimal. And whoever had sent him this token, they clearly did not wish to make it a public event. Therefore, it was a private business. For now, he would just have to assume it was the right thing to do.

Glancing down at the object, he murmured his disbelief in Czech and shook his head.

* * *

Carson extended Sheppard's stay in the infirmary by forty-eight hours. His struggle with Ronon had irritated his fractured collarbone, so the colonel spent the better part of the next few days sleeping off the painkillers. It didn't stop the nightmares about screaming Wraith darts and stun bombs. But he wouldn't tell anyone about those. 

After his release, he made it a routine to visit the infirmary every day during visiting hours. He arrived early—though not nearly as early as Ronon, which brought him to wonder what the guy actually did in his spare time—and he stayed until Beckett kicked them all out.

Rodney was improving, slowly. His kidney was toast—he'd have to make due with just the one from now on. On the bright side, the infection that had settled in the wound was a minor one, and within days of his crash, his fever ebbed to a relatively normal ninety-nine point one. But he didn't regain consciousness for a week.

It happened when Sheppard and Teyla were knee-deep in a competitive debate about their worst off-world encounter. Ronon had fallen asleep in one of the chairs, albeit lightly (Sheppard didn't doubt the man was listening to their whole conversation). McKay's very unhappy groan caught them unaware.

Sheppard jumped to his feet and paced over to the side of the bed. Ronon was right with him (he'd been right about him—the little faker) and soon all three were surrounding the bed, waiting for some other indication of life from their grounded teammate.

Rodney's eyelids flickered open. He stared up at them. There was some annoyance behind his glare. "…you."

"Yes, Rodney, us." John tilted his head, smirking. "And how's our favorite injured genius today?"

McKay snorted, sounding less indignant and more like a hamster sneezing. "Can I have a moment…? I just woke up, for—" He stopped, squinting at Sheppard strangely. "You're hurt."

The colonel glanced down at the sling around his neck and made a twisted expression. "Oh, this? It's nothing. Just a teeny tiny fracture line in the lower left clavicle." The lopsided grin returned. "Beckett taught me that."

"Oh," said the physicist. "Didn't I…?"

"Yeah."

"Then that means I'm—"

"Yep."

"And you're all—"

"That's right."

"Are you going to let me complete a full sentence without interrupting me?" Rodney snapped angrily. A moment later, his face contorted painfully. "Ow…okay, that's not good. Why am I still in pain? Where's Carson?"

"You were speared by a tree, Rodney. What'd you expect?" John raised an eyebrow at him. "But…now that you're awake and all, how about sharing with us the answer?"

The blue eyes narrowed. "Answer? What answer?"

"To the game, man, the game! Remember we were playing on the way back to the 'gate?"

"What?" the physicist squeaked. "I am recovering from being stabbed through my own intestines and the one thing you care about is the answer to a stupid game?"

"Does that mean you won't tell us?"

"Forget it! If you're so inconsiderate of my health, you don't deserve to know." McKay's voice was cracked and somewhat hoarse, but that didn't stop the full ferocity of his grumpiness. A second later, he averted his eyes. "Besides…you still had two questions left."

"I'm sure Teyla's willing to give them up for the answer, right Teyla?" Sheppard twisted around to look at the Athosian standing behind him.

Teyla's smile was both warm and somewhat enigmatic. "It would be a fair trade."

McKay glanced at her warily. "Fine," he muttered. "It's you. Happy now?"

Feeling victorious, Sheppard exchanged looks with both Ronon and Teyla. Ronon rolled his eyes. Teyla moved closer to the edge of the bed, and to McKay's surprise, laid her hand over his and squeezed it gently.

"We are happy that you are still alive," she said gently. "We were all worried. Including Colonel Sheppard," she added, giving John a sharp look.

Sheppard was grinning again. Only the insane would wonder what was in his mind. Rodney decided that half-drugged and cranky was good enough for him. He sighed, closing his eyes to express his irritation. "What is it _now_?

The colonel snickered. "You think Teyla's pretty," he teased in a singsong style. "Ow! Hey!"

Teyla had punched him in the arm, and felt it was deserving of another. He flinched away before her fist made contact again. "Perhaps you would enjoy another stay here in the infirmary, Colonel?"

"Guys," said Ronon.

Both Teyla and Sheppard turned to find the Satedan thoroughly trained on the occupant of the bed beside them. When they looked, McKay's eyes were closed once again and his breathing had evened out. Clearly he had already spent what little energy he had by simply being awake. There was, however, a slight curve to the edge of his lips.

"Maybe we should go," Sheppard suggested, scratching the back of his neck. "I have a feeling Beckett'll take our hides if he finds out about this."

As a group, they moved away from McKay's bed and started to leave. John paused briefly to look over his shoulder, just to make sure Rodney was still breathing. He had to check. This was going to be something permanent in his treatment of the scientist now—the fact that accidents happened, even Wraith-related ones, now seemed too likely for comfort. No more treating even the easiest missions lightly. He had proof that even those could go wrong.

But for now, they'd be okay.

It was nice that way.

Thinking back to Rodney's answer, he found himself smiling again. Teyla must have noticed, because she frowned. "Colonel, what are you thinking?"

"Oh, nothing," he responded, laying the 'I'm-too-innocent-to-be-wrong' a little thickly in his voice. Then, under his breath, he started to chant, "Rodney and Teyla, sittin' in a tree. K—I—S—S—"

The corridors of Atlantis echoed with the muffled sounds of John Sheppard being pummeled.

* * *

AN: There you have it. 

If it seems rushed, forgive me. I'm no good at long bedside conversations. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and thanks for the feedback!


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